Joss walks into some dimly-lit room and is greeted by a woman she calls Lucy. Joss says she hasn't seen Lucy at the bar lately, and Lucy looks meaningfully at the other people around them. Joss says, "Oh, right." Lucy says, "I had no idea you were a fellow traveler," and I'm just beginning to think that somehow I've switched to Star Trek: Deep Space Nine when Joss whispers in Lucy's ear, "I'm not really an alcoholic." Oh. Never mind. Lucy tells her not to do that to herself, and Joss insists that she's really not someone who can't control herself -- she's just using an AA meeting to meet guys. Lucy can't believe her. Joss says, "I want a guy who's done the work on himself. You know? A guy who's already been through the bad stuff, who's on the upswing in his life. Priorities straight, problems solved." A preppy-looking professional gets up and does the AA introduction. His name's Randall, and he's an alcoholic. Hi, Randall. Anyway, Randall gives a nice little speech about getting the best out of life because he's seen a purpose to life and he demands happiness. Joss is all ears and sits down to gaze.
Meanwhile, Sarah is on a manhunt (I'm going on a manhunt . . . okay, never mind) of her own. She wanders through a laundromat and witnesses a guy with severe plumber's crack smacking a change machine around. Fragile, sensitive Sarah looks disconcerted, until she spies a "cute guy" to throw her basket of dirty underwear next to. She smiles, saunters over, and proceeds to pull out and play with several garishly-colored, lacy dinner cups (you know, "bras"), in the most subtle way, of course. Aw, who am I kidding? There's only one way to play with your bras and that's to be pathetically obvious. So, the camera gets a good shot of her DD cups, but hold the phone -- these can't be her cups, they're padded! What. Ever. Cute Guy is fascinated until he looks at Sarah's face: "Whoa! Oh, for a second, I thought you were, uh -- you just look a lot like somebody that I -- well, actually my girlfriend." Sarah is downcast: "Oh." Cute Guy attempts to repair the damage: "My ex-girlfriend. Ex-ex." Sarah is triumphant: "Ah. Well, I see that you're having trouble with the water temperatures?" Here Sarah leans one hip against the washer, all the better to gaze suggestively into Cute Guy's eyes. "Well, yeah, my girlfriend does the laundry. Uh, did," Cute Guy stutters. And you never did laundry on your own, oh, say, in college? I would have turned around right then and walked out, because a guy who hasn't done his own laundry ever probably also has a mother lurking around who thinks her son still drinks breast milk. But then, I know how to be an individual without needing a man to define me. Consequently, Sarah pursues this freak: "Oh, so how long have you gone without clean clothes, exactly?" she asks. "That's hard to say. I don't know, I just keep buying underwear so I don't have to do my wash. I'm up to thirty-two pairs," Cute Guy admits. "So that's roughly a month?" Sarah asks. "No, two months," Cute Guy corrects her, "I do the inside-out thing." Please excuse me while I go scrub myself down with Ajax and a Brillo pad. Sarah's now thinking the plumber's-crack guy is looking pretty good until Cute Guy redeems himself in her eyes with shallow flattery. "That's good going, Walt, that's exactly the way to flirt with a pretty girl," Cute Guy (officially known as Walt) says to himself. That's the earliest in an ep that we've ever found out a non-essential's name.
The next scene is a demo at what looks like a self-defense class, where some macho-looking instructor is explaining technique. Platypus waddles in. The instructor looks at her: "May I help you?" Platypus isn't fazed. "Is this Introduction To Stage Combat?" she asks. The instructor glares at Platypus in her pink-hooded sweatshirt: "You're late, take a seat." Instead of taking a seat and the hint to keep her mouth shut, Platypus asks, "What have I missed so far?" The instructor tells her that they already went around and asked everyone their name and why they were taking the class. He tells her to give her reason. Instead of answering, Platypus just looks at the all-male class and licks her lips. The all-male class look back at her and grins. It looks exactly like that scene from Weird Science when Kelly LeBrock walks in as the instructor to an all-male gym class. You know, skivvies, tongues hanging out, pathetic. But Platypus is no Kelly LeBrock.