Crichton enters the hospital hallway, having changed into jeans, a white tee, and a black sweat jacket. He suddenly stops and whistles knowingly, then says, "Won't get fooled again!" as the camera pans over to reveal the door to the women's bathroom. We have a title! He swings the door open and marches in just as a woman in a pink robe steps out of a stall. The woman does not approve. Crichton apologizes, "Thought it was co-ed," and exits. As he leaves, we hear the woman say, "Co-ed? What planet are you from?" "Not this one," Crichton mutters, and walks on. He borrows a newspaper from a passersby in the hall and looks over the headlines. "'Gator Victim Number Six.'" Wow, I bet Baltar's gonna go all Captain Hook now. Crichton continues, "Last week it was five. They're getting the details right." He walks on, opening the paper so that we can see that it's the Orlando Herald. The killer gator story takes up the whole front page. Slow week in Orlando.
Crichton finally reaches the snazziest waiting room ever, lined with huge windows opening onto a nice view of the coast. Pa is there, and Crichton apologizes for his behavior. Pa waves that aside, saying, "You've been through a lot. I lost it myself when your mother died." The piano of foreboding plinks as Crichton stares at Pa. The foreboding is interrupted by DK, who greets Crichton by calling, "Papa Bear!" Oh my. Crichton feigns delight and kind of rolls his eyes as he says, "Hey, you made it this time!" And he got a new hairstyle. Well, I guess it has been a week. DK and Pa exposition about the crash a bit. Crichton's bored with the whole scenario, and with a shrug asks what DK wants him to do. DK says that Aeryn wants Crichton to get a psychiatric evaluation from one Doctor Cominsky.
Cut to a dark office lined with bookcases. Crichton stands next to a shiny fan as he eyes some diplomas on the wall. He mutters that it's warm, and then sits at the desk. He picks up the phone and dials, then starts rooting through the desk drawer as he says, "I'd like to order a pizza. Um, medium. Deluxe." He moves the phone away from his mouth and mutters, "These guys are good." We hear a door close, and Crichton stares as Zhaan enters. She's still blue, and still bald, but she's wearing a shiny suit over a white blouse. Because she's Dr. Cominsky now. She approaches the desk and Crichton stops goggling long enough to say, "Zhaan." She asks if that's a name or an adjective. He hangs up the phone and says it's a name as he gets up and crosses the room. Crichton pours herself a glass of water from a handy pitcher and confirms that she's a psychiatrist. He sniffs, "I don't think so. On earth, psychiatrists don't come in blue." Zhaan sits on the edge of her desk and asks, "Do you have a problem with people of color?" Heh. Crichton explains, "I have a contextual problem. You're an alien." Zhaan cops to that, but notes, "I do have a green card."