Sal and Peggy are in with Pete in his office on Clearasil business, and Pete isn't happy about the child photographs they've got on tap. "Compared to the kids on American Bandstand, they look miserable." I only saw one girl's picture, but she looked miserable even compared to the children on Kid Nation. Peggy pitches the idea of a print and TV campaign depicting two kids going on a date to the prom, with their skin not even being on their minds. "They're two kids who used to have a problem." Pete likes the idea, and suggests "Thanks, Clearasil!" for the copy. Peggy: "I'm gonna think about it." Heh. Sal's all over it, but Pete has to save some face by saying he'll "eventually" pitch it to his father-in-law. Once he "eventually" figures out how to take maximum credit for the idea, he does not say.
After an establishing shot of a random foursome on the links, we're in a clubhouse, where Don is mentioning to some guy that he doesn't play golf, while Betty's chatting with another couple about the Rosenberg execution and the potential for a mass Sing Sing escape. You have to keep it light at these things. Don's guy, who's in PR, pulls him aside for some shop gossip, saying that basically, his team got canned from his previous firm because the CIA hired them to push rebellion-themed propaganda on the Cuban people in the lead up to the Bay of Pigs. I feel like I should say something here, but it kind of speaks for itself, no? Like, I can't imagine anyone actually needed to state a reason at the firing, right? Anyway, Betty's couple leaves her to go talk to husbands and wives who actually hang out with each other, which gives Arthur, speaking of people who hate their significant others, the opening to approach Betty, saying he's been coming to the club since he was a kid. Hmm. I thought we were meant to think a silver spoon was absent from his childhood, but I suppose these things are relative, given that it sounded like his fiancée's family owns half the Eastern seaboard. Betty explains that they're guests of "the Patersons," who I suppose are the couple we just saw, and after an awkward pause and an equally awkward speculation by Arthur that Tara is "over there, I think," he tells Betty that he hasn't seen her riding, and worries that he's the reason she changed her schedule. Betty charitably tells him not to be ridiculous, but, as Don watches from across the room, Arthur tells her to please ride when she wants, and he'll stay out of her way. He starts to leave, but she calls him back and favors him with a big smile. "As we used to say in college, let's be friends." Arthur can barely contain his joy to be back on speaking terms, and tells Betty that she would have enjoyed seeing him get nosed into the trough the other day. Nothing against Arthur, but I certainly wouldn't have passed that one up. Betty giggles and hair-tosses for a moment, seemingly not so profoundly sad anymore, but then her kids rush up and wrap themselves around her. This makes it difficult for Arthur to continue picturing Betty as the college freshman he's about to bone, so he makes himself scarce. Back over with Don, the PR guy is bitching about how JFK is chasing starlets while his wife is smiling at people all over the world, and mentions that he's building a bomb shelter. "If you see Petra, don't mention it. She doesn't want anyone to know." Understandable -- the squatter situation could turn out to be exceedingly awkward. An older gentleman gets up to the mike and announces that it's a tradition that they have their "ribs and fashion show" (I... don't know) on Memorial Day every year, but they mean no disrespect to the many soldiers who are off serving their country, lugubriously adding, "many of whom will not be enjoying ribs this afternoon." That's one of the most unwittingly hilarious lines I've ever heard. Forget shrapnel and lost limbs -- it's the deficiency of pork that's a soldier's toughest cross to bear. The emcee invites all present servicemen to be recognized, and Don, of course, is forced to stand and receive his accolades, although if no one knew him there, he'd probably be not merely sitting but hiding under the table. Sally claps and regards him with such daddy-worship that it could make you cry, though, and Don looks not unaffected.