Paula bugs the housekeeper some more, and patronizes the shit out of her. Her name is Marina. She is Paula's only true friend. She doesn't speak English. Neither of them do.

There's an hour and a half left before the flight, and Paula is leaving the Grammies, but the staff has A) lost track of her and B) not packed any of her shit. So the two things they are supposed to do, they did not do, but Paula's going to get upset about some unrelated, irrelevant shit. This is something of a leitmotif.

So Paula's cold and wandering the streets of L.A. aimlessly in the middle of the night, post-Grammies, in an unflattering Valentino gown. She is harassed and adored by the denizens of the night: homeless people, cab drivers, rapists, murderers, people high on crack. She takes this all with an unsinkable charm, apparently deaf to her own fight-or-flight response. She nearly breaks her ankle walking down the middle of the street, and laughs it off. This is all pretty bleak.

The limo randomly shows up on some corner before she is stabbed to death, so that's nice. Paula pretends to have extemporized this after-the-fact red carpet comeback to the supremely disinterested Joan Rivers: "What doctor is your face wearing?" A) Nobody believes she just came up with that this second, and B) nobody believes she came up with that at all. So then she laughs hysterically in the limo to prove that she too is impressed by her spontaneous genius. C) It's funny but it is not that goddamned funny. Of all the Valerie Cherish moments in that episode, that's the one I'm giving the Cherish Is The Word Award tonight.

At the airport Paula throws a hissy because she has jeans and not sweats for the flight. A serious, long-term, Botoxy mumbling hissy. Then she fights the pants, and all the people in the limo watch her do this with a kind of laid-back horror.

These people abandoned her on the streets of Los Angeles for hours, wandering around in a Valentino gown, and she's pissed, because not only is she being forced to wear jeans, but they are also tight. "If I don't sleep on the flight, QVC is going to be a disaster." I'll say it again: "QVC is going to be a disaster." My emphasis. Also, she wants white tennis shoes and they brought black ones. Music as intense as a hostage situation plays while Paula goes through her luggage looking for white tennis shoes. This is the stupidest show I've ever seen. I swear this is the longest segment. She begs us for some sympathy, wondering if we could possibly sleep in "high-heeled boots and tight jeans." And to be honest, no, I could not do that. But I would never be in this situation, because I am not a lunatic.