Back at the AA meeting, Joss is up at the podium giving a completely insincere speech about how the difficulties in life only serve to pave the way for a better future. I wonder if she had to get up and say, "Hi, I'm Joss and I'm an alcoholic," because that would've been incredibly insulting to everyone in the room and especially to her friend, Lucy. All the time she's talking, she is looking deep into the eyes of Randall, who is sitting in the back row. Randall doesn't break her gaze.
"Columbia Law? That is so impressive, but isn't it a terrible commute? I mean, from the village?" Sarah is asking Walt as he takes his laundry out of the dryer. "Oh, no, not really, I live up there. West 116th Street," Walt explains. Sarah is confused until Walt explains that he tries to avoid his neighborhood because he doesn't want to run into his "girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend.Ex. Anyway, it's good to get out of your rut, you know?" Walt then asks Sarah if there are any other places in her neighborhood she would recommend to a visitor. "Well, there's Sammy's S&M store. One-stop shopping for all your whip and rubber needs," Sarah answers. "Good to know," Walt says, grinning in anticipation of wrapping a chain around Sarah's neck and pulling it taut. Sorry, gotta curb that runaway imagination of mine. Sarah tells him about the bar she works at, and Walt asks if it's a good place to get to know someone better. "You might say," Sarah says.
Meanwhile, Platypus is working it with her fight partner. "Chelsea, huh? I hear there's some good new restaurants there," she natters. ["I don't know if the writers expected non-Manhattanites to get that reference, but the fact that the guy lives in Chelsea probably means he's gay." -- Sars] "You wanna try resisting me a little bit?" is her partner's response. "Wow, you're strong. You must work out, huh?" Platypus says this while feeling the forearm muscles of her partner. In this scene, Platypus looks really nappy and sweaty, with these tendril-wanna-be-hair-pieces hanging around her ears. Not attractive. Throughout this short conversation, Platypus and her fight partner are fake-throttling each other. Oh, I really could let my imagination run wild here. The class moves on to mock punch-throwing, and Platypus is still babbling, asking her partner if he'd seen Shakespeare in the Park that summer. Meanwhile, the instructor is telling the class to speed things up and keep eye contact. Platypus continues to yammer incessantly: "I'm also big on sporting events and I know most of the rules. So I'm not like one of those girls who's always asking stupid questions. God, don't you just hate that?" Her partner nods as the instructor calls out, "Okay, real time. Good work, Ronnie." For some reason, Platypus thinks he's addressing her and, distracted, turns to say, "Really?" She turns back to her partner just in time to receive a genuine, non-fake punch smack-dab in the kisser. Her partner looks shocked, and so does the instructor, but deep down, you know they gotta be relieved.