Luke and Friedman are walking through the hall. "She called me a determinist." Friedman: "God. Harsh." Luke: "I thought because we shared similar intellectual goals, she could deal with modifying our relationship." Friedman says he's trying to take her mind off it: "But she just keeps shoving me into walls. I'm sure it's a game." Luke's barely listening: "Women make no sense. They don't obey the rules! They don't even know the rules. Friedman, there are rules." Friedman tries to get him to settle down. Suddenly Joan tackles Luke and pushes him into a nearby classroom, saying she needs his help. Friedman: "Women."
They're in a classroom full of computers with LCD monitors. Not that I noticed; Frink pointed it out. I'm more involved in looking at Joan, because it looks like Amber Tamblyn's lost weight. Please, please, don't turn into one of those Hollywood Q-Tips. Not that she's close, yet, but she wouldn't be the first young female star to go down that road under the spotlight's relentless glare. Luke's typing stuff into a web site called GiftSleuth.com (which, interestingly, redirects you to Television Without Pity -- thanks, Brian Wilson of Darkwolf Enterprises, whoever you are!) as Joan tells him things about Adam: "Okay, he's a sculptor, so he's really good with his hands…" Mmm. Do tell. Luke looks at her, and she stops talking: "What?" I think he's reacting to where his mind went with that, but she doesn't seem to get it: "You said this site would help find the right thing, so type." Luke: "Fine. 'Sculptor. Good with hands.' What else?" Joan says he's sixteen and a really good listener. The search engine points to the Victoria's Secret catalogue. Joan: "What?" Luke thinks it must have been the "sixteen-year-old boy" thing. Okay, but…it's not like the catalogue is much of a gift, since it's pretty much free for the asking. And I don't know what he's going to do with anything ordered from the catalogue, so unless they're hinting at Adam's heretofore unacknowledged transvestism, I don't understand this suggestion.
Joan, annoyed, tells him to get rid of that and put in "practical." That brings up an electric sander. Joan: "Oh, that's romantic." Luke: "You know, if I could just offer an observation here about your overall method…" Joan: "No offense, but you couldn't hold onto Glynis for a month." A month? Haven't they been seeing each other for about two or three months? Gah, wonky timelines make me crazy. Luke: "Yeah, and it was exactly this kind of forced behaviour…" Joan makes a little "uh-uh, zip it" sound and inquires, "Do you see any body language that says I care?" Luke says nothing. Joan gets back to her problem: "Okay, romantic, but not overly romantic, because that's like a teddy bear with those 'I love you' balloons, and that'll just look like I got him something from the gas station." That, and like an incipient stalker. Joan rambles on about finding something romantic but which doesn't pressure Adam too much, but still lets him know how much she cares. Luke: "Should I be hearing this?" Joan: "No." She tells him to put in "sensitive," "sense of humour," and "budding romantic with potential for a full-on thing, but…at a somewhat…later date…" Luke: "Garfield night light." That's just…sad. Joan: "I'm meant to die alone." Hey, you could get cats. Even better: you and Grace could have a Boston Marriage. I'm just saying. She walks out.