Helen's brought some gallery owner out to her studio (in the garage) to look at her painting. He starts looking through a pile of old ones, but she discourages him. She puts her new one on the easel and he regards it, squinching his face up unattractively. Helen says it's kind of a new direction for her. She fidgets nervously. "I just wanted somebody else's take on it, 'cause it came out so fast." Gallery Guy says he can see that. She thinks she should have taken more time with it. He disagrees: "Don't touch it." He likes it: "It's a new direction for you: it's free, it's uncalculated. It's beautiful, Helen." Behind him, she's got that "I can't believe he asked me to the prom!" expression. Helen: "I was afraid it was [too] easy." He loves the orange. They both exult about the orange. He adds, "You're not afraid of the paint. I'm very impressed." He goes back to pawing through the other paintings briefly, then says, "I hope I don't sound too mercenary, but do you think you could pull this into a series? I know I could sell them." Helen doesn't seem sure, but she acts like she is. He would like three or four, all that size.
To the tune of Veal's "I Hate Your Lipstick," Glynis and Joan emerge from the cosmetology class mighty tarted up. Glynis doesn't have her glasses on, and she's got her hair parted in the middle. And she's wearing quite a lot of makeup. Joan's hair is all curled, and she's wearing gobs of eye makeup and lipstick and blush. Glynis smiles, and some tall cute All-American type stops her and starts chatting her up. Luke happens to see this as he emerges from a classroom. Since Glynis probably can't see bubkes without her glasses, she walked right past him. Luke just walks in the other direction. Joan prances down the hall. Since she's wearing a cardigan and a big gathered skirt (with a big print of dogs on it) and flats, the entire effect is very 1950s, sort of Natalie Wood meets Diana Dors. She walks up to Adam, who's engrossed in a newspaper. He doesn't seem to notice anything different about her, so she tosses her hair a bit and smiles expectantly. She bats her eyes at him. No, really. Adam: "Oh! Oh, they're showing Night of the Hunter at the Rialto. Classic film noir with Robert Mitchum. Wanna go?" Joan runs her fingers through her hair like she's in a shampoo commercial and asks, "I dunno…is it in black and white?" Adam: "Uh, yeah. It's noir." It looks snotty in print, but he didn't say it that way. She says she doesn't know; she has lots of homework. He asks if she's mad at him because he wouldn't go to the mall. She says no, and succeeds in catching his gaze. She gives him a kind of preening look, and Adam says, "What?" Joan: "Notice anything?" Adam, looking her up and down briefly: "Yeah, uh…Jane." Joan, fed up, says, "Okay. Just wondering. Enjoy your noir." She takes off as Adam watches her go. Do I need to tell you he's confused?