Jason and Elka lie platonically in Elka's bed (the "she Catholic, he gay" undertones have never come across so plainly as they do here), and Jason whores himself out to the B-M personnel department once more in doing just what the producers ask. You can practically here the "And...ACTION!" before Jason begins, "Let me get this straight. Your boyfriend lives in Ireland, right?" We learn that Elka landed herself an Irish rock star while traveling abroad in Greece, and that he kissed her before they'd known each other for an hour. Jason admits that he's "a little confused" about how she can consider this "Walter" her boyfriend, which of course means that he does not believe a word of this, and at this point in the series, neither did I. At all. She claims that their relationship has blossomed over the phone, and Jason asks, "So there's lots of contact?" Which, again, seems like something he should already know, considering this episode marks the halfway point of the Boston season and they live in a house with one phone. But anyway. Elka hopes that Walter will come visit her in America, but her sincere sentiment is drowned out by the deafening roar of this episode's viewing audience raising its one collective eyebrow and quietly muttering, "Yeah, that'll happen." Jason asks whether Walter considers Elka his girlfriend, and she does nothing to make her case look more credible when she answers: "Yeah." Glacial pause. "Pretty much." Oh. No. Jason thinks not being the center of attention is for suckers, so we're back in a confessional where he tells us, "He might be a cool guy, but I seriously doubt we're gonna meet him. We might. I doubt it, though. She swears she loves him. She's got the poster on the wall." Yup. Just the poster. And not even of just him, but of him and his entire band. Now there's a personalized gift from the heart. And, as I've repeatedly pointed out, that is the only proof of the existence of this person. She would have done well to have brought, oh, I don't know, a photograph of the two of them together to prove that they've been so much as introduced. I've got posters and other wall-hangings all over my room too, but that sure as heck doesn't mean that I'm dating half of Neve Campbell's black and white face from the promotional poster of Scream 2 or that I'm practically betrothed to the little girl carrying one of her shoes and walking down a street in an oil painting hanging above my mantel that my grandmother painted in 1965. Note to Elka: Buy yourself a disposable camera and a plastic frame from Target. It'll lend a little credence to this knotty "boyfriend" argument, and the whole investment will put you out, what, seven dollars? Because right now, no one believes you, Elka. No one.