Tara protests that Lettie Mae paid less than half of that, which proves nothing except that Tara is a soft-sciences genius, because $445 > $800/2 no matter how you do it, but whatever. Here's the important part: "What I do takes varying amounts of energy, and involves varying amounts of risk. Now, what you got inside you is much more powerful than what your mama had. Much more dangerous, too." Tara can't believe it, and gets angry: "I once found that woman on the ground, eating her own vomit 'cause she didn't wanna waste the alcohol she lost bringing it all up." And how much better did you feel about yourself, watching that happen? Knowing there were places you wouldn't go?
Miss Jeanette just looks away and down, because what a gross fucking thing to say, here of all places. She shrugs. "Think about it. But not for too long. You can't afford to keep pushing people away. Your loneliness is spreading to your eyes. It's becoming a part of who you are." This last so forcefully that Tara shivers and sips her rum. Jeanette's got her. "Next time you're alone, stand in the mirror and count backwards from ten. If you can get all the way down to zero, then I'm wrong. But if you can't stand your own company for ten seconds, how you gonna expect to do it for the rest of your life?" Tara nearly starts to weep.
Sookie walks up her driveway looking shockingly hot in Pam's short black-pleather dominatrix dress, asking Bill if he's really going to be okay after his talk with Eric. "A simple slap on the wrist," he says. "That's all." Sookie asks if he's not in fact bullshitting, based on her convo with Pam, and Bill leads her delicately and sweetly up the steps by her wrist, scoffing hilariously: "Pam was turned almost a hundred years ago, and yet somehow still behaves as though every day were Halloween." Um, yeah. The definition of awesome. Mainstreaming and not mainstreaming are equally for pussies. "She's all drama and theatrics. I assure you, everything's gonna be fine." THE WORDS OF DEATH! Thanks, Compton.