Private Practice

Episode Report Card
Mollie: C+ | Grade It Now!
In Which We Meet Addison, A Nice Girl From Somewhere Else
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

We open on the concrete exterior of Seattle Grace, but instead of Meredith's vapid narration unspooling over footage of the various docs starting their days, we get immediate action. Angry Chief Webber storms into the surgery-prep area, where Addison is scrubbing in (or possibly out). He wants to know what's up with the letter of resignation on his desk, and he's not trying to hear any of this private practice/medical co-op/moving to L.A. stuff. "This is not my Addison," he says. "My Addison is a world-class neonatal surgeon." (And non-Grey's fans are now completely up to speed.) At this moment Addison certainly looks the part, in her scrubs and everything. But she fires back, "Your Addison would have been promoted to chief of surgery, so stop Addisoning me." (Incidentally, spell-check suggests that she meant to say "Stop radioing me" or "Stop disowning me.") Webber protests, "You don't know anything about those people!" and Addison proves him wrong with a quick character breakdown: There's fertility specialist Naomi, her best friend from med school -- "She's an amazing woman," Addison declares, as we see Naomi slumped on the floor of her bathroom, sobbing and eating an entire carrot cake right out of the box. Then there's Naomi's ex-husband, internist Sam: "You wish you had his people skills," says Addy, and we see Sam in bed, having an emotional conversation with...his teeny-tiny, pillow-destroying dog. Hee. Addy moves on to psychiatrist Violet, who's "grounded" and "strong" -- and, at the moment, dialing her ex-boyfriend, who picks up and says, "Hello? ...Hello? ...Violet, you have to stop calling here. I'm married now!" She hangs up, with an appropriate amount of self-loathing. On to Cooper, the pediatrician -- by this point I'm wondering why Webber hasn't interrupted, but whatever. Addison calls Cooper "a pro," and we note that one of his professional-level skills is making terrible choices when it comes to sexual partners. We can tell because he's spread-eagle on his bed, chained to the frame with fuzzy handcuffs and trying to sweet-talk his unseen paramour, whose name he can't remember, and who walks out without even tossing him the key. (We never find out how he frees himself, thank God for small favors.) Finally, there's alternative-medicine practitioner Pete; Addison is still skeptical of his work, of course, but as we revisit their face-sucking from last season's pi-not, she recalls, "The man is a healer." These, she insists, are the people she wants to work with.

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Private Practice




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