How nice for John that his mom likes to get ready for a date by having a bath with the bathroom door wide open as she shaves her legs. Her voiceover tells us the endlessly fascinating story of Moe Berg, the professional baseball player/spy who attended a lecture in 1943 by German physicist Werner Heisenberg to try to determine if the Germans were close to building the Bomb, and if so, to shoot Heisenberg in the head. Bonus Canadian trivia! Moe Berg is also the lead singer of the late, great Canadian band The Pursuit of Happiness, whose albums are criminally hard to find these days. If anyone has a copy of The Downward Road, email me. I want it. I will pay you.
Sarah's having dinner Andy's house, and prying into his past, saying she can't believe he majored in "cell phone sales" in college. She kind of pulls it off, given that she's a 33-year-old waitress. I think a better question is how this guy affords this place. He talks about he and his roommates hacking Zelda III so the princess would speak funny lines ripped from reruns. I suppose when you talk about your geek roommates hacking video games to make your pixel girlfriend speak lines you want, you're either going to avoid wasting time on second dates, or you're going to know right away if you've found your soul mate. "What's that language you speak, boy?" smirks Sarah. He calls it "computer science, Caltech, advanced dork." Only he never earned his degree, because his father died in senior year, and he dropped out to help his mom, who kind of went "off the rails." Sarah says she's sorry, and he thanks her but points out it was a long time ago, and now his mom is married to the security guard at her bank. So she's got that going for her, which is nice. He asks if she has family, and she says, "Distant," and I think if Sarah wants this relationship to go anywhere, she might as well own up to having a kid right now, and she gets up to stroll around his pleasingly tidy home. He asks (invoking privilege as a cell phone salesman) if she ever wanted to be anything other than a waitress. She says yes, but she can't remember what. Way to work on your cover story, Connor.
She's seen something that's caught her eye, though: a poster with a human hand playing chess against a robot hand. The poster's titled "Kramnik vs. Deep Fritz". Andy says, "Most people cite the '97 Kasparov/Deep Blue as the watershed man vs. machine match" -- yep, that's what most people do, all right -- "but Fritz would have wiped the floor with Deep Blue." Sarah looks unnerved by the robot arm on the poster. "What is it you do, Andy." He looks at her, and, given that she hasn't already left the place after he regales her with tales of social-misfit college years and man-vs.-machine chess matches, decides to go for it. He takes a key from the string around his neck -- my god, he wears a key on a string around his neck -- and opens up his closet.