David and Keith, meanwhile, have checked into their hotel and decided to hit the pool. David emerges in a robe (StR=937) that could put Tony Soprano's to shame, but he's soon overwhelmed by a feeling of dread when he sees all the happy heterosexual couples relaxing in their lounge chairs. This leads to a classic dream sequence in which the boys make their way through the crowd as various homophobic taunts are thrown their way. One guy even pukes, and a mother covers her young son with a towel while shouting, "You can't have him!" Heh. A quick snap back to reality reveals that most of these people are too busy practicing to give Zonker Harris a run for his money at the next George Hamilton Open to care what David and Keith might be up to. And just out of curiosity, is there anyone out there who actually got that reference? This is by far the funniest scene of the episode, and even the tiny moments are great, like when a mother in the background tells her son to "turn over" onto his stomach just as they walk past. Keith finds an empty spot in the corner, and makes David even more uncomfortable by announcing that he's found some shade for his "honey." David, meanwhile, borrows a lounge chair from a nearby couple, and winces at the hilariously hideous screeching noise it makes as he drags it across the pavement. He's concerned that everyone will know that they're gay, because he thinks "people here might be a little uncomfortable about it." Keith rightly points out that no one really seems to care one way or another, and in yet another nice little touch, a random girl walks by in a gay-pride-colored rainbow bikini. Coincidence? I doubt it. The scene ends with David reluctantly posing for a picture with Keith's arms draped around him, to the complete and utter indifference of everyone in sight.
Kathy and Ruth go shopping. It's just as exciting as it sounds. Kathy tries in vain to liven things up with yet another wholly unnecessary reference to pubic hair, and if you're interested, a Google search on "euphemisms for pubic hair" turned up: the secret garden, the beetle bonnet, Einstein's wig, gras blong kok (in the Bislama language favored in the Vanuatu Islands), and the cunning linguistic tidbit that the modern word "cotton" is actually derived from the ancient Cushitic word "kw'it-al," which was used to describe the curly hairs surrounding the male genitalia. Can somebody please remind me to clear my browser logs when this recap is finished? Thanks. At Kathy's behest, Ruth tries on a black outfit that involves capri pants, and I think the less said about that, the better.
Art school. Claire is quite annoyed to discover that the semi-famous teacher she was expecting for her "Form In Space" class has received a travel grant to Israel, and therefore won't be teaching the course. Instead they'll be getting one Olivier Castro-Staal, whom a nearby classmate describes as "awesome." As an interesting side note, the first time I watched this episode I totally thought the classmate was being played by the same guy who did Lonnie in Flirting With Disaster. The resemblance is uncanny. But then I remembered that Glenn Fitzgerald already played Aaron Buchbinder last season, so it obviously couldn't be him. That's not really funny or anything, but it was too weird a coincidence not to mention. Anyway, Olivier soon arrives, and after some brief befuddlement over whether or not he's in the right place, he storms into the classroom to become the best damn substitute since Dustin Hoffman played Mr. Bergstrom. "I don't do lectures," he announces. "If anyone needs a lecture, for whatever reason people have for these things, then go now. I won't be offended." Well, in that case, buh-bye, Olivier! Okay. Just kidding. I can't leave yet. "We're going to make art in this class," he adds, while flouting the established curriculum guidelines set down by the registrar's office. "If this upsets your sense of order, then go now. I won't be offended." You certainly don't have to tell me twice! Well, okay, actually you do. I still can't leave. A scary-looking, pink-coiffed young goth girl in the front row, however, does decide to get out while she still can. Buh-bye, Pinky Tuscahairo! Mr. Bergstrom orders the remaining students to sit on the floor and take five minutes to draw a picture of the "most horrible" day of their lives. I can do it in thirty seconds. It's me in front of the computer, with six and a half hours of recapping still to go.