Outside on the street -- Jenn got to go outside! -- she calls Grandma to tell how it went. "I definitely think it could have gone better, but at least I got up there, and it was good for the experience." What? It was good for the experience. Revisionist history again, here: turns out Jenn's dream was to get over her fear of being onstage, now? Not to be a singer? Time-traveling Jenn strikes again. "When I saw Matt 'Velvet' Dusk on stage I thought to myself: 'How brave and amazing of him, for I have always had a fear of heights.'" Her incredibly made-up face screws itself into a seriously saddening mess as she continues to speak brightly and sweetly to her grandmother, and it's pretty effective. That gets me every time, the smile-voice during weeping. I like Jenn a little more now, if only because I'm maxed out on feeling ashamed for her and it had to go somewhere. She interviews that she was "swallowing [her] tears and [her] heart," which in Jenn-speak means she didn't want to cry on a busy Vegas street because it's tacky, and that it was an "absolute nightmare as far as Jenn goes," which almost makes sense, I guess, and then she tells Grandma she doesn't know what she's going to do now. Let's brainstorm. Cocktail waitress, to lounge singer, to...what now? What is the vector? President of the USA? Spokesperson for PETA? Her next line is just so telling: "I'll get a job doing something. Real soon." It's so weird and unplanned, like this whole storyline weren't cooked up around Joe Eszterhas's coffee table in the time it takes to hide your stash from the cops and film a quick double-penetration scene. She's still fake-smiling into her cell phone -- it's a worrier -- as she heads back into the Nugget for phase three of her big career trek, and...phase three is not U.S. President. I'll tell you that much.
Tommy is preparing for his meeting with Tim, repeating half-sentences to himself and playing with golf clubs, because he's Tommy. "Tremendous experience with customer service," he mumbles. On the elevator he adjusts everything. He looks very nice in his big-boy suit. Tommy's confident that once Tim hears what he has to say, the job is his. Wow, between Jenn and Tommy I find myself on top of the world. I can do anything. You know, ever since I got into Nip/Tuck I've wanted to try my hand at plastic surgery -- any takers? Don't worry about my lack of training or experience. My belief in myself and complete denial about the obstacles in my way will help out vastly. Sadly, Tommy learns that Tim is not in right now, when he said he would be. Tommy walks out, pretty pissed and cursing under his breath, but still smiling, because that's how he is, and as a manager you should know that he smiles through stress and it has nothing to do with you, or his respect for you or your womanhood. But then, you are a bitch, so... "All in all, I'm just a dealer, and what I'm trying to do is tough...it's a very sought-after job, and it's going to be difficult." I like how Tommy understands the complex reasons that Tim just totally blew him off, but wow, so that was the whole story? Tommy gets pushed into scheduling a meeting, and then the meeting is cancelled? Tell me this thrilling epic of one boy's Horatio Alger story of success continues next week. Okay, it does? Good. Because people, I am hooked.