Pete and Ken are admiring (well, Pete is; Ken seems more puzzled) Pete's new stereo cabinet and I swear, I talk about this all the time but Kartheiser is SO GOOD; even before Don, the Chivas Regal of invited guests, has appeared, he's acting like a kid having a birthday party -- proud, solicitous and happy all at once. He remarks that the hi-fi is like having a tiny orchestra and then Mrs. Hargrove comes in with drinks and a request from Trudy to turn down the stereo lest they wake the baby and then there's a knock at the door and Pete actually says out loud "Terrific, that's him!" Forget the sport coat, it's too bad Don couldn't have dressed like Arthur Fonzarelli the way he's being played up here. Anyway, speaking of, Don has consented to wear the rather loud plaid coat Megan bought him (don't worry, he makes it look good) and hellos are exchanged, with no one helping the Drapers out on Mrs. Hargrove's first name (Don's "Hello, you makes me wish I'd been calling her "Mulva" this whole time). Trudy joins them and after celebrating with Megan about how they finally "got them together," Pete holds up the bakery tin Megan brought and VERY SUBTLY asks Trudy if it doesn't make her homesick. I'd beg that he give it a rest, but Trudy's "Um, yeah, it's too bad they don't have bakeries up here" does a better job of making the same request. Trudy then invites the women into the kitchen with her, leaving Pete to fawn further over Don, saying what a big deal it is to "us" that he came out. Don, at least, feigns graciousness, being all "pshaw" at the sentiment and saying they're long overdue. They all sit and Pete recalls how he invited Don for dinner when he and Trudy first were married and adds that it was another lifetime. Don: "Well, at least for me." Given what Pete knows about Don's history, that line is unintentionally hilarious, but if Pete grasps that, he doesn't let on in front of Ben. (Pen names: The lowest form of humor.)
The dinner date is in full swing and it's not going great; Lane tries to apply Roger's teachings, but Edwin is proving to be conversationally inscrutable, zigging when Lane thinks he's zagging. Edwin does ask about Lane's service in, I presume, World War II, but Lane confesses that while he volunteered for combat on numerous occasions, he spent most of the war as a supply assistant. After a lot of effort, just when Lane thinks Edwin's coming to a revelation, Edwin tells him he hasn't a complaint in the world, leaving Lane with nothing to do but signal the waiter for another round. I know things look grim, Lane, but Roger's probably already passed out so unless you want to crash a party in Cos Cob, you're going to have to stick it out here.