Inside. S&P tries to steer Gabby toward his sweater collection, but her nose for couture leads her straight into his ex-wife's closet, which is packed with spendy gems, all of which Gabby recognizes instantly: "Lacroix, Ungaro, vintage Gaultier...." And everything's exactly Gabby's size! S&P: "Well I guess I have a type." Gabby: "And normally, that would creep me out? But it means I can borrow this one-of-a-kind [some designer that sounds like "Andari," which I don't at all recognize (and which I couldn't find on the internet, and which not one fashion-forward friend recognized), so maybe the design is exclusive to the Eagle state...or maybe I'm hopelessly un-chic?] for our date!" But S&P refuses on the grounds that his ex (who is storing her clothes there until her house is ready) wouldn't appreciate his loaning out her clothes to his new girlfriend -- a sensibility I kind of think Gabby would appreciate if she weren't in such a swoon. Gabby tries to argue that the wife will never find out, and then tries wheedling, "A dress this gorgeous is meant to be seen! Every day it hangs in a closet, an angel loses its wings!" But S&P refuses to be moved. Gabby pouts and sighs.
Dream Academy. Mike is lying on the couch, describing a distant memory he has of a movie he once saw, a romantic comedy starring Julia Roberts, maybe? Pancakes are involved. (Ah, so it's a sexy pancake memory, is it? I have those all the time. IN MY PANTS.) The rememo-doctor wonders whom Mike went to the movie with, and Mike -- wearing his frustrated face, which for those unfamiliar with the rainbow of emotion that is Mike, looks much like his happy face, and excited face, and mad face -- thinks that, since it was obviously a "chick flick," he was probably with Susan when he saw it. But whatever it is, something about his memory of this movie leaves him feeling melancholy, so the doctor strongly recommends that he talk to Susan about it, if not for the sake of regaining his memories, then for the sake of "closure." Incidentally, the doctor plays this whole scene like a perky "you're soaking in it!"-style manicurist, which feels very off to me. Though maybe sharing a scene with Stoneman Mike is enough to make anyone overact?
Carlos, on the phone with Travers Britt, says he'd love to come over and help out with the construction of a model airplane. Travers hangs up the phone and turns to Edie, who's sitting right there, to tell her that Carlos has agreed to come over around 7 tomorrow night. Travers: "Can I go watch my show now?" (Ah, "My Show," I understand that's a very popular program with the children of Fairview.) Edie, handing him a cookie, tells him to watch the night away, because tomorrow he's "going to have an early night." Dear Diary: Nicollette Sheridan's arms sure are pretty.