"I'm not drunk," Claire says drunkenly. Her coworker Kirsten, standing in the bathroom at work, suggests reasonably, "It seems like you are." Claire lurches out of the stall she locked herself in as Kirsten points out that Claire's fallen asleep at her desk twice today, and she smells of liquor. She doesn't mention the vomit in Claire's hair. Which isn't actually there, because I made it up. Somebody on the makeup staff fell down on the job, I'd say. "You can't smell vodka," Claire scoffs, which kind of gives away the game. "Anyway," Claire says, going to the sink, "you're being a little fucking bitch." Kirsten says she's sorry about the death of Claire's brother, and if Claire goes home and sleeps it off, Kirsten won't tell Human Resources. Hey, what happened to Personnel? Claire responds to this generous offer by screaming at Kirsten to go ahead and tell, throwing a blizzard of paper towels and Kleenexes at her. Intervention over; Kirsten yells, "All right, I am wicked pissed. You are going to be so fired." "Yeah, well, I'm fucking Ted," Claire smirks. Kirsten: "No way." Claire: "Way." Wow, it really is still the nineties in that office. Kirsten stomps out, crushed, while Claire flips a double bird at her retreating back. "God," she says to her own reflection. "'Way.'" Would it be accurate to say Claire's a mean drunk, since she's rarely not mean? I guess that would make her a meaner drunk.