Michael interviews that he never would have called Oscar "faggy" if he'd known Oscar's orientation: "You don't call retarded people retards. It's bad taste. You call your friends retards when they're acting retarded. And I consider Oscar a friend!" Maybe Michael should just stick to "lame." I mean, at least until he gets an employee who uses a wheelchair. God forbid.
Michael finds Oscar at the photocopier and quietly apologizes, saying that he had no idea. Oscar is, at first, as gracious as one could be under the circumstances (but also answers him even more quietly, trying to shut him up before anyone else overhears, since Kevin and Angela are right there). But Michael, of course, can never shut up, ever, and with Kevin and Angela totally overhearing everything says that if he doesn't know how to behave, it's because he's so super-duper-straight, though he suggests that maybe sometime they could go out for a beer so that Oscar could explain to him how he could "do that to another dude." Seems like the appropriate solution would be for Oscar to order Michael some instructive videos, to be delivered at the office. But instead, Oscar -- with bitter sarcasm (that Michael, of course, can't discern) -- says that sounds like a wonderful idea. Michael, his work done, takes off, leaving Oscar to slink back to his desk, where Angela and Kevin stare at him, waiting for him to explain whether his gayness affects his ability to read a ledger.
In an interview, Kevin giggles helplessly.
Angela interviews, "It explains so much."
And in his own interview, Oscar declares, "No, I'm not gay. And I don't understand why anyone would think that I'm gay if..." He trails off into a gigantic sigh, shakes his head at himself, and resumes: "Yeah, I'm gay." He smiles with relief; it's actually a really nice performance in such a tiny scene, the way Oscar Nuñez's face changes from tight and pinched to open and relaxed in a matter of seconds. You kind of hope the character can hold on to that feeling for the rest of the day, and all the crap that's about to rain down on him.
Kevin inter-giggles some more. Like...that kind of crap.
In Stamford, Jim is telling someone that he doesn't know if Dunder Mifflin paper is any less flammable than other companies' products. Although if there were such a thing as paper made with asbestos fibers, the company selling it would probably be someplace like Scranton. Or maybe New Jersey.