Over at Casa Foreclosure, Gabrielle is looking at herself in the mirror and complaining, via telephone, to her agent. Apparently, she is being accused of acting like a diva because she stormed out of a boat show. Gabrielle yelps that she left because she was getting hit on. This is so tiresome. If, despite being two foot nothing, Gabrielle was in fact a "supermodel," then I don't understand why she doesn't call her old agent in New York and tell him that she's looking to get back into the game. He can book her real jobs. She can take something called "an airplane" to get to them, and stay at something called "a hotel," because the money that she makes doing real gigs will be like ninety times what she's making at a boat show, and she's not the one under house arrest. This entire thing is so contrived to keep her on Wisteria Lane. Anyway, Gabrielle takes time out from her bitchery to snap at Yao Lin -- who is scrubbing the bathroom floor -- that she missed a spot. Yao Lin shoots her a dirty look, as Gabrielle tells her agent that she and Carlos are "up to [their] asses in bills and [they] can't pay them," so he had better book her another job. She slams down the phone. Yao Lin makes what I can only assume are deeply snarky comments in her native language. Gabrielle is all, "What did you say?" Yao Lin gets back to scrubbing. "Nothing," she sings. Gabrielle asks if she cleaned that spot, and Yao Lin retorts that she'll get to it. Gabrielle thinks for a moment. "Clean it now," she barks. "Why?" Yao Lin asks. "Because I said so," Gabrielle snaps. Yao Lin tells her she's got to say "please," which Gabrielle does, very icily. "Anything to get you back on your knees scrubbing where you belong," she mutters. She is so trying to goad her into quitting because they can't afford her but are too embarrassed to say so. And so Yao Lin gets up and announces that the only reason Gabrielle has anything is because she's pretty: "One day you'll be old, and when that happens, you'll be nothing." Gabrielle narrows her eyes. "You are SO FIRED," she spits. "No kidding," Yao Lin retorts, and leaves. Gabrielle goes back to gazing at herself in the mirror.
Down the street, Susan and Mike sit on his stoop as he opens his mail, most notably a card from her. It's hand-painted. "Whoever sent you that must really love you," Susan coos. Girl, it's been like a month. My parents ran off to Vegas after knowing each other three months -- and have been married thirty-four years this March -- but that's the exception that proves the rule. Dial it down, Needypants. Mike tells Susan it's beautiful, and they kiss. She asks if they're still on for Valentine's Day dinner, and he tells her that he got them reservations at "La Petite Fleur." Susan wiggles around with joy. "Ooh, that place is so pretentious! I've been dying to go there," she squeals. Teri Hatcher delivered that line very well.