Back to art school. NotLonnie is up in front of the class showing off his "most horrible day" painting, which features a lot of red squiggles and depicts the time a friend of his OD'd. Mr. Bergstrom takes one look at the picture and immediately orders the entire class to write down the name of their favorite artists on a sheet of paper. He correctly guesses NotLonnie's selection, proving that he's not just dramatic and cool, but also telepathic. Damn, this guy is good. He guesses Claire's next, and even though he was wrong about her favorite artist (Modigliani, for trivia fetishists such as myself), he does correctly assume that she attended a show by Edward Hopper earlier in the week. "Every work you make has to be a surprise to the earth," he insists. "A seeing that has never happened before." Um, yeah. Clearly this guy has never read a recap.
Kathy and Ruth are still in the dressing room, with Ruth insisting that she won't buy anything that doesn't already match her carefully selected look. Which means, of course, that she'll never buy clothing again, because I'm pretty sure they stopped making most of that stuff sometime around 1957. Or maybe she'll never buy clothing again because, like Kathy, she'll just be shoplifting it. Yep, that's right. Kathy shoves a $350 scarf into her pocketbook, and then for some reason also decides to pilfer some eyeglass frames before informing Ruth that "it would really help if [she] tried to look a little less suspicious." I totally couldn't care less about this plotline, but Frances Conroy's little squeal of horror at the end of the scene is absolutely priceless. I'm not really sure when this started, but lately she's been giving Michael C. Hall a serious run for his money as the best comedic actor on the show. Go Frances!
And speaking of Michael C. Hall, here he is. Although when you notice that he's wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, his comedic talents will probably be the furthest things from your mind. He's also carefully ironing his shirt, which is likely to send the more domesticated among you into near paroxysms of lust. Keith, meanwhile, is shaving his head. Heh. David is reluctant to attend the resort's "Fiesta Barbecue," possibly because he's concerned about the potential for trouser chili, but mostly because he's worried they'll be the only gay couple there. Keith speculates on the sexuality of the eleven-year-old boy they spotted in the pool earlier, and insists that there's nothing wrong with going out to have a good time. "Sometime I just get exhausted by the running commentary in my head all day long about how to be," sighs David. "Is this shirt too tight? Is that gesture too flamboyant? Should I not tell people I watch Oz?" Keith tells him to relax, and even though David insists that he "can't turn it on and off," Keith points out that "no one gets a break from their reality." I'm not really sure what that means in this context, because he's essentially telling David that he should take a break from his reality, but it sounded good, and I'm willing to let it slide. "Besides, Mexican food gives me the runs," snots David, showing a marked lack of euphemistic originality. Keith reminds him of what Dr. Arye Gross told them, causing David to amend his statement to say, "It makes me FEEL like I have the runs." Hee! Seeing that Keith is taking Arye's counseling to heart, he reluctantly agrees to attend. "But I'm not doing a limbo contest," he says. Which is shame, according to Keith, who insists that David could win easily before planting a nice little kiss right on his lips. Aw. And just for the record, David could also totally win a magical collar-fixing contest, because his has been in about three different positions throughout the course of this scene.