Eventually, Joey gets to the front of the line, and hands her form to the nice administrative lady, who gives it one quick glance and hands it back to her. Turns out Wilder signed the form "Oscar Wilde." Joey huffs enormously and stamps out of the administrative building. I really don't understand why, at this point, Joey doesn't just duck into the ladies' room and forge Wilder's signature herself. I mean, it's illegal and all, but damn, people. I guess we can add "juvenile" and "liar" to our list of descriptive terms for Professor Wilder. Right under "creepy," "pretentious," "tool-y," and "super tool-y." ["We can also add 'no common sense' to our list of Joey's qualities. She spent hours standing in that line -- she wouldn't have looked at the form even once? Seen the wrong signature?" -- Sars]
Fancy Schmancy Café For Kept Men Who Sometimes Work As Deckhands. Pacey dines with Chippy Melanie, and complains about how chi-chi the joint is. She smarms that he can "torture her with grilled cheese tomorrow." Pacey blanches when Melanie reaches for the bill and insists on paying. She reminds him that she has an allowance and a credit card and a trust fund, and he doesn't even have a job. She tells him that "when his ship comes in," he can pay the bill, but for the time being, "this is what legally blondes do for their cute slacker boyfriends." Pacey makes his "I'm so emasculated" face.
Dormitory For Hot Boys Who Work In Radio. Jen snorts in her sleep and wakes herself up. And she's naked. In bed. With Charlie. And what, in the vernacular, is known as his six-pack, although, actually, it's more like a twelve-pack. "Oh God!" she yelps, and starts rooting around for her clothes, "Oh God"-ing the entire time. Charlie wakes up with a jolt. "Wait, what did I miss? Are you praying?" he asks. Heh. Jen, flustered, asks him what time it is; it's five o'clock. Jen starts running around, tossing her clothes on haphazardly. "Why did you let me fall asleep?" she asks him. "I wasn't aware we were conducting some sort of vigil," Charlie cracks. Jen's frantically looking for her shoes, and repeating that she can't believe she "did this." Or something. I'm…distracted. Jen tells Charlie that she has friends coming over for dinner, and she's late, and her grandmother will be wondering where she is and she really needs a shoe! "Grandmother?" Charlie asks. Jen told him, she lives with her grandmother. "I thought you were kidding about that," Charlie says. "No. Can I borrow your shoes?" Jen asks. She finds some kind of footwear and starts to hightail it out of there, but Charlie pulls on his drawers and chases her. He stops her at the door and tells her not to pretend what happened didn't happen. Or something. "What happened?" Jen asks. She's blushing. "I met you. I liked you. You liked me. We had sex," Charlie recaps. He then asks her to take a minute and "stop and appreciate" that, because "it's pretty freaking amazing," and "if it's all right with [her]," he doesn't want to have to go out next Friday night and start the whole process over again. Because, he says, he's not going to find someone he likes half as much as he likes her. "Okay," Jen and I say in unison, all dreamily. "Okay, what?" Charlie asks. "Okay, you can call me," Jen tells him. Charlie grins. "Why would I want to call you?" he asks. "You're right here." Jen smiles in spite of herself as Charlie grabs her and kisses her and pulls her back inside the room.
Professor Wilder dismisses his afternoon class, and turns to see an irate Joey. She sarcastically thanks him for signing her Add/Drop form. Wilder smiles at her and informs her that it's the "rare high school graduate" who knows the difference between "its" and "it's," and when he finds one, his blood "tends to race a little bit." Um, isn't Worthington supposed to be super-hard to get into? Because if it is, I bet most of those kids know the difference between a contraction and a possessive. Also, that may have been a shout-out to Sars. In which case: about damn time. ["Since I had to teach my own TA Wilder how to use the serial semi-colon, that's actually accurate. Doesn't mean I won't take the shout-out." -- Sars] Anyway, Wilder smarms that Joey will "forgive him for not wanting to part with a student [he] found promising." And if this scene was in any way representative of reality, Joey would tell him that he'd have to forgive her for bringing in an ombudsman to make sure that he signs her damn Add/Drop form, because he's not her father, and he's not paying for her education, and she doesn't even know him, and thus he has no right to decide which classes she can and can not drop. And, also? Joey is not something for him to "part with." She's a person. One more thing: this possessive deal Wilder's throwing around is not attractive, and it's not all that flattering. It's mostly creepy, and inappropriate. I'd find this entire plot line way more realistic -- and Wilder far more attractive --if he had just told Joey that she's a talented writer, and he hates to lose her, and he hopes to see her in his class sometime in the future. Instead of, you know, these wack and juvenile mind games. Next, Wilder tells Joey that she has "an amazing inability to roll with the punches," which is true, but also, again, really not his watch. He also thinks that she wouldn't be dropping his class if she had a better grade in it. Well, no shit, Professor Brainiac. More arguing. This scene is a potent cocktail of boring and infuriating. And then they get to talking about Dawson. Joey tells Wilder that "the boy" is outside "debating the future of [their] relationship." Oh, God! Get the form signed! Get out! Finally, Wilder tells Joey that she's talking crazy talk, and he hands her a blue book and tells her that if she can explain whatever she's yammering about in a way that makes some sense, he'll "let her go chase that boy of [hers]." That is so icky. "You realize this is completely unfair?" Joey asks. Wilder is aware. He smiles at her, possessively, as she sits down at a desk and begins to write.