Inside The Big House, Kirsten pours coffee while Sandy checks the paper for "any impending natural disasters before tomorrow's grand opening." Kirsten asks why he's nervous, and Sandy points out that if their "friends and family pre-celebration" tonight goes badly, they'll have no time to fix the problems before the opening. He adds that anticipating the worst at all times is a "Cohen family trait." A cheery Jimmy shows up wearing an oatmeal-colored shirt, and he should really stick to the blue. He and Sandy commence a ten-minute handshake that includes waggling spirit fingers at each other. And we get it. They're white. Kirsten looks on in amusement as they explain that, as business partners, they need their own secret handshake, and that it's a guy thing she couldn't possibly understand. Sure. An eight-year-old guy thing. Hailey wriggles into the room in a slinky black dress, wondering if it "puts the 'ho' in 'hostess.'" Kirsten thinks it looks great, and then conveniently turns to Jimmy for his opinion, since it's his restaurant. Cut to Jimmy, eating nuts and ogling Hailey. He awkwardly lobs the question to Sandy, just as Hailey complains about her lack of shoes. Sandy cracks that her dress will suitably distract the customers from the fact that they won't be drinking, announcing that he just got a letter from the liquor board reneging the Lighthouse's liquor license. Jimmy exclaims that they already have a permit, and Sandy suspects a mix-up; he leaves to call the inspector, commenting that Cohens are always right to anticipate the worst since the worst always happens. Kirsten scurries after him on a shoe-finding mission. Hailey remains behind to wriggle at Jimmy and flirtatiously ask if he likes the dress. He offers that it's "a keeper," but presumably not a Keeper as in the new feminine protection method or the Quidditch goal-keeper. She asks if he'll sit in her section, and he scoffs that she can even make waitress-speak sound "untoward." Smooching follows. Kirsten yells in advance of reentering the room, but they still don't break away fast enough to avoid at least some degree of suspicion on her part. Both Hailey and Jimmy grab random items from the counter to fiddle with, but Kirsten looks wary.
Meanwhile, at The Non-Beautiful Blue Bachelor Pad, Marissa answers the door to find Summer chattering about what spa treatment they should get today. Marissa snits that she's "not really into exfoliating right now." Maybe she should be, since she's not getting (or looking) any younger. Besides, she says, she's meeting Ryan for lunch. Summer enthuses over that plan: "Corn dogs and pizza! You know I read an article in Stuff that said carbs send endorphins to your brain and that makes you happy!" She singsongs this in such a way that I have to rewind at least ten times to get what she's saying, and it's total testament to Rachel Bilson's adorability that I don't mind. She's just so cute, even when mumbling incoherently. Which I guess, come to think of it, is a trait she shares with Adam Brody. They'll make cute, incomprehensible babies together. The ringing of a telephone interrupts, and Marissa stomps upstairs to get it while Summer chases after her, confused that Marissa actually has a bedroom. We see that the room is full of boxes and unpacked suitcases as Summer expresses her sarcastic admiration for what Marissa's done with the place. Marissa finally locates the phone, but she's missed the call and doesn't bother to check the number to see who called. Who does that? Marissa moans that she hasn't gotten around to unpacking yet, while Summer expresses horror that her "t-shirts are touching [her] sweaters." Marissa admits that she thought if she didn't hang anything up, it wouldn't be permanent. How old is she again? Does she also cover her ears with her hands and chant "La la la la la I can't hear you" when someone delivers bad news? Summer looks sad for Marissa or, more specifically, for the fact that Marissa has the emotional development of a five-year-old. When Marissa heads out to meet Ryan, Summer asks permission to stay behind and watch television, since her "step-monster" just got her wisdom teeth pulled and she's "all whacked out on Percoset, leaving a trail of drool all over the house." Marissa shrugs that it's fine, instead of acknowledging that someone else in the world might actually have a problem that requires friendship or concern. Marissa's hair in this scene is pulled back like Elaine from Seinfeld's "Wall of Hair," and I'm not a fan. I'm not a fan, period, "Wall of Hair," or no.