Platypus and Mollie McButter-Wouldn't-Melt-In-Her-Mouth are stretching out before a morning run. Platypus tells Mollie not to worry about keeping up with her pace and that if she just starts to sprint, she will meet Mollie back at the apartment. Mollie says that she's meeting Scraggle for breakfast, and Platypus looks annoyed at this and corrects her pronunciation of Houston Street: "House-ton. It's pronounced House-ton." Mollie goes on to say that since she hasn't showered yet, she may have to pass Platypus and Platypus can catch up with her at the apartment. Rowrr -- ffffft!

Apparently, J.B. is putting a lot of faith into this one gig he got from Sophie, because he quits his job at the Wash 'n' Go place. His supervisor tells him his timing is really bad (is there ever a good time to quit a job?), but J.B. tells him that if he's going to make a success of his DJ business, he has to be completely devoted to it. His supervisor grudgingly wishes him luck but advises him that it's not going to happen overnight because "these things take years and years --" At this point they are interrupted by Felicity's shrink, who has half her head done up in Reynolds Wrap. She tells J.B. she needs a DJ for her son's bar mitzvah because the band she booked canceled. J.B. jumps at the chance, not remembering, of course, that he's already booked Sophie's little shindig. Before walking away, Bar Mitzvah Mom asks, "I assume you have references?" J.B., always so quick on his feet (something he picked up during his gigolo-ing days), gestures over to a fellow follicle professional, "I did his wedding." The fellow follicle professional, who just happens to be the actor who played Adam on Popular, says, "And it was fabulous!" without skipping a beat. See, this is supposed to be funny, because they are making J.B.'s reference the stereotypical gay man working in a salon, whose saying he had a wedding is comical. That is, not.

Sarah is talking to someone on the phone about canceling an email account: "No, I don't want to cancel the whole account. Just one sub-account, LongLegs2000. No, not Smerrin." Oh, so that's how the slippery little trickster put over a de Bergerac on Spencer_4Hire. Meanwhile, her product-placed excite.com account gives her the Instant Message ting-a-ling. Let's regroup -- she's on the phone, yet she's connected to the Internet? I have a full-time, salaried position and I still can't afford a lousy cable modem in Boston, yet suddenly she who makes two hundred a week can? Hey, FOX, you got a bridge you wanna sell me, too? Sarah is so distracted by her IM that she tells the excite.com people she has to call them back. There's a bit of back and forth between Spencer and Sarah. Spencer admits his shortcomings in the relationship department and blames it on his father's influence: "I'm my father's son. He left every woman he ever cared about. I'm not as dramatic, I just throw a temper tantrum whenever someone gets too close. I just need someone to tell me to stop. You don't do that. You never stand up to me. Until last night." Spencer even writes that Sarah stands up to him. "Well," Sarah writes, "I'm not Sarah." Yeah, so there!