It turns out that the bad housekeeper wasn't Stevie's mother after all; he lied to them about his address. Leah finally tells the truth: "He's Romany -- a gypsy." "So you don't have a home?" Cameron asks. "Of course we do!" says Stevie, all offended. Well, it's not like you've offered any proof of a home yet, Stevie. I don't think Cameron's being racist here. Anti-handicapped, yes. Racist, no. At least, not yet. "This is why I don't tell people!" says Stevie, adding that "sharing information with outsiders has not gone so well for my people." Well, not sharing information didn't go so well, either. By preventing medical professionals from reaching your parents, you delayed what could have been a critical medical procedure. Also, I love how they named the gypsy character "Stevie." Too bad they stopped short of giving him the last name "Nicks." Stevie says that they can't go to his house or they'll "pollute" it. "Your presence is enough," says Leah, with an eye-roll that says she's heard this speech more than a few times. Chase doesn't have time for this, and asks Leah where Stevie lives. Stevie begs her not to tell, and says that he'll tell them the truth about anything they want to know as long as they don't pollute his house with their very presence. For example, he says, he's drunk and smoked pot before. So...that's cool with his people but letting non-Romas into his home isn't? Cameron asks Stevie where he got the pot, saying that a pesticide on it could cause his lungs to bleed. Stevie says h got it from "some kid at school," and Leah immediately steps in and says that she gave him the pot and that Stevie doesn't even go to school, since his parents made him drop out. Wow, Stevie, way to prove yourself by telling the truth, there. They should go to his house just to punish him for lying. Stevie says that he's home-schooled, but Leah says that "he reads books," and that Stevie and his father "buy and sell anything they can get their hands on." Well, that certainly sounds legitimate. She adds that Stevie and his father drove up to Chicago recently. I have to admit that I know nothing about Roma people other than what I've learned from Stevie Nicks and the English side of my family (not always favorable, although that was mostly because of the fact that they squatted on common land and didn't pay property taxes. That kind of thing breeds resentment, fair or not). I shall prepare to be enlightened.
We cut to Cuddy, mid-laugh at House's request to get his parking spot back. "You can't be serious!" she says. "Actually, I can," says House, and then proceeds to demonstrate this by flashing her a serious face. Brilliant! This scene is already one hundred times more enjoyable than the last one. Cuddy says that the parking spot wasn't House's to lose -- it belongs to the hospital. Cuddy indicates the "hospital" by pointing at her boobs. Interesting. Cuddy says that House's handicapped space application said that he had to be no less than fifty yards away from the hospital. The spot she assigned him to is a very clever forty-six yards away; she measured it herself. I hope all of this was worth the pain in the ass that must have been, Cuddy. House tries to make his point by saying that a guy in a wheelchair won the New York City marathon six years in a row. I'm going to assume he wasn't in an electric wheelchair. Cuddy tells him that if he loves wheelchairs so much, he can go marry one. She doesn't think he could last a week in a wheelchair. "Wanna bet?" asks House. Excellent!