Back in the room of death and darkness, House makes fun of Nash's hope to be reunited with his lost love, saying it's pathetic and a simple visit or phone call won't fix things. "It's my daughter," Nash says. House thinks for a second, then asks where she is. Nash says he had an affair with a student and when his wife found out, she rightly gave him the boot. He left behind his six-year-old daughter and apparently never looked back. He says that he cheated on his wife in the first place because he married her because she was pregnant, then freaked out about the idea of commitment and found a way out of it by cheating on her. And then apparently spent the rest of his life not having any friends. Because that happens. Nash kept tabs on his daughter Gracie throughout the years, though, and knows she's now a dance teacher in Atlanta who doesn't get home from work until 9. He's waiting for that so he can give her a call and speak to her one last time. Nice job waiting until the very last second there, Professor Procrastinator. He asks House for his story, reminding him that he's going to be dead in a few hours so House has nothing to lose by being honest with him. True, but, again -- why does Nash care? If he's so much of an asshole that he has no one in his life to be with him when he dies then I doubt he cares about other people's problems. House rather uncharacteristically comes clean, saying that he always thought he liked being alone until he met Franka Potente in a mental hospital and she "changed" him. "And then she left," he sighs. And this is like the first time he's mentioned it since then, a gap he filled pursuing other women like 3B and Cuddy so he couldn't have missed her that much. Also, he was interested in Cuddy before he met Franka and lived with Stacy McFrozenface for years. So I have a hard time buying that he was happier alone until Franka came along. House shrugs that it doesn't really matter what you do or who you are in life because you still die alone and "tomorrow will be the same." "Yesterday would have been different," Nash points out.
Wilson walks up to Sassy Cafeteria Register Lady and greets her as "Daria." Ha! Please tell me she's named after Daria Morgendorffer. Daria greets Wilson cheerfully, but then he asks her to make him a chicken sandwich. "Grill's closed," she says. Isn't the entire cafeteria closed, really? And yet, Daria is still at her cash register, doing the hell out of her job. She is already a harder worker and a more competent employee than everyone else at PPTH. Wilson says Hadley needs a high-protein meal immediately due to her "hypoproteinemia," and the cold chicken salad Daria suggests will not do. "She needs to eat warm protein for this disease?" Daria asks, not at all amused. Wilson mumbles something about activating uptake enzymes and concludes by saying that Daria's reluctance to turn the grill on could cause multiple organ failure for Hadley. Okay, come on now, Daria. Here's your chance to be the most awesome character in television history (not to mention a realistic depiction of nearly all hospital cafeteria workers I've ever met) by saying you'd rather watch Hadley die than cook a chicken sandwich. Especially since Daria runs the cash register. She's not a cook. Although I guess that's how it works at PPTH, where surgeons operate on everything from hearts to brains when they aren't serving as diagnostic fellows. But no, Daria just says "you don't have to be obnoxious about it" and heads for the kitchen, leaving her precious cash register unattended. Wilson opens it, snatches a dollar bill, and closes it, only for an alarm to go off loudly and obviously. It wakes up all the PPTH employees who don't get any lines this episode and so are spending their time in trapped in the cafeteria sleeping (hey, is that the weird night janitor I see?) and they all stare at him as Daria comes out from the kitchen and glares. Wilson places the dollar bill on the register, considers explaining himself, then gives up and walks away. Hadley finds this hilarious, because she sucks.