We return to a Rex-narrated montage of the miserable (never-before-seen) women of Wisteria Lane: a woman with a secret drinking problem, a woman with a stroller that she can't seem to remove from her trunk (the worst!), a woman with the wimpy, wimpy, wimpy trash bag that tears in half and spills garbage all over her front lawn. Rex: "But I don't want to talk about them. No. I want to talk about their men. And what happens to a guy when the special lady in his life starts to lose it." Rex introduces us to Carlos, a man who used to have it all -- sexy wife, money, etc. -- but then it all went poof, and now Carlos has to resort to "creative ways" to find satisfaction in life: Carlos, it appears, is now exploring the rich depths of internet dating. Does looking for a sex connection online really count as getting "creative," in this day and age? The profile he's looking at is of a sassy blonde by the name of "crzydncr206" (you mean there were 205 other vowel-hating dance-lovers who got to the site first?), who is looking for a "boy to dance the night away." Ugh. Her profile says that she's thirty-two, and from "Fairview, E.S." As in the Eagle State. Nice consistency, sad little PA who surely stayed up all night artfully crafting this ad! The ad also indicates that she's "slender," and "spiritual but not religious." And she "definitely" wants kids.
Mike comes in, and Carlos guiltily snaps his laptop shut. Mike hamfists the plot along by explaining that the hospital called; someone apparently found some more of Mike's things, leftover from his big coma stay. Carlos offers to send Mike -- who's clearly had a bad year, what with the coma and the arrest -- off for a well-deserved night in a fancy hotel. Mike immediately picks up on the fact that Carlos is trying to get rid of him, and Carlos admits that he's hoping to dance the night away with a slender spiritual crzy woman, whom Carlos winningly describes as a "complete freak with serious daddy issues." Nice. Mike promises to stay in his room and make not a peep. Carlos: "Yeah, but you'll hear me. I'm kind of...exuberant by nature, and when I haven't had it in awhile, I kind of do this...shrieking thing." Mike throws up in his mouth and agrees to spend the night at a hotel. Shouldn't Carlos's condo be ready by now? Or is this contrived "we have to find some way to consolidate the scenes of these two single characters" roommate situation now a permanent setup? Also: Carlos shrieks when he's sexing? That's a mental sound bite that's unpleasantly hard to shake.