At the hospital, Gallant tells Abby that he's thinking about pursuing emergency medicine, because he's mistakenly gotten the impression that she cares about anything that doesn't involve hating herself or her life. "Here?" she gapes. "Better than Iraq," grunts Frank, accusing Gallant of being afraid to fight -- he can delay his service commitment until after his residency. "Any time, any place, old man," Gallant retorts. Susan appears and complains about her St. Patrick's Day revelers. A clean-cut brown-haired man asks her where Weaver is, and Susan crabbily refers him to Frank. "Why as me? Do I look like the customer-service lady?" she whines. Maybe it's the hair. It's down, and while it looks pretty and shiny, it seems a tad impractical to risk shedding all over some poor patient's innards. "He's cute," Abby says, nodding at the young man. "He's a zygote," Susan crabs. Beggars can't be choosers, diva.
As they walk away, Susan bitches about swearing off blind dates, then announces that she and Chen and a horde of other County staffers are going to Vegas that night. She's excited. As well she should be. Maybe she should invite Carter so that he can give Gamma's ring to a scantily clad showgirl with a heart of gold, a chest of silicone and a hard-on for awkward, boyish sex. As Abby bustles around working and checking charts, Susan comically tries to sneak a good look at her left hand, going to far as to move the chart Abby's holding. "Did you need that?" Abby asks blankly. "Uh, no," Susan chokes. She asks oh-so-casually how Abby's doing with Carter. "Good, I guess," Abby sighs. "He's been acting a little weird [but] I think we're getting back to normal." Chuny calls Susan away before she can get more information.