Opening credits. Commercials. I don't think I could ever get invited to an Old Navy rooftop party. I'm just not carefree enough.
If there's strummy alt-crap music playing, we must be at The Talon. We return from commercials with the neon sign at night, and then go inside. A waitress is carrying two frothy coffee drinks as she passes by a table where Clark and Lana sit. Lana giggles and says, "Clark, you're amazing!" Not "super"? You sure? No? All right, let's move on, then. Lana is complimenting Clark's dancing skills, saying that he won't win any contests, but that he's definitely not the worst. Are you sure? Because I kind of thought he was the worst. Clark humbly says that he almost started a ten-person pile-up while two-stepping. He suggests that they skip the dancing next time...and go right to the not having sex. Also: two-stepping? I know it's Kansas, but damn. Don't they have a hip-hop station out there?
Lana suggests that they try something else: Chloe's pulling an all-nighter at The Daily Planet, so she's got the dorm to herself. Wow, that's just what Chloe wants to come home to in the morning: the smell of Lana and Clark's sex hanging in the air as it mixes with the scent of burnt toast and Cheerios. Lana offers the information about Chloe as a hint. The solution: she's warm for your form, Clark. She's hot for your tots. She's keen for your beam. Also, she wants sex. At the news that Lana has the place to herself, Clark looks like he just learned he came down with spina bifida. "We have the place to ourselves," Lana corrects. Yikes! Pink alert, people! We are on a Level 9 pink alert! Clark says that it sounds great, but that he has to get up early because it's going to rain and he's got to put up some tarps. God forbid it should rain on a farm where there are crops and soil to absorb it. Lana's loins cool down, but she doesn't act angry or disappointed. She just says that whenever Clark is ready to take the steel door off his vagina and let it breathe again, she'll be ready: "I'll be waiting. As long as it takes." Yeah, these days sex really gets good when you're in your sixties. "No pressure," says Lana. Clark's dong tries to grow long enough to strangle him, but his belt's on too tight. Lana gets up to leave, and maybe go make a little purchase at the adult bookstore on the edge of town. "I gotta go, it's getting late," she says. There is something seriously wrong with this girl. Let's break it down for just a second. Now, nobody ever said that Lana was a floozy. For a long time, she wore her innocence as a badge of honor. For her to offer herself up to Clark and keep getting shot down? I don't believe for a second that she'd be so understanding, no matter how fun their little two-step date went. At the very least, she'd be annoyed that Clark wasn't at least willing to make out a little or just spend the night with her, even without the sex. I know I'm over-examining this, which falls to us, the viewers, because it doesn't seem like the writers do. Clark watches Lana go, admiring a booty that isn't there and that he'd never have if it was.