Anonymous Manhattan Bar. Betty is talking to the bartender -- AKA Victim #2 -- about the Case of Daniel "Manwhore" Meade's Missing Watch. Miss Bartender doesn't have it, and she'd also like to know why Daniel just didn't ask her himself. Betty somehow gets stuck behind a pole -- wings are hard to gracefully negotiate in small spaces -- while attempting to explain that Daniel is all busy and stuff. Miss Bartender squeaks that she let Daniel use her toothbrush and gave him the good pillow! "Why would he say all those things to me and not call me? It just doesn't make sense!" Man. I have dated Daniel. I knew he looked familiar. Betty looks sympathetic. "Oh my god. You're trying to sabotage us," Miss Bartender says. "Are you sleeping with him?" she asks. Betty says that she will just put the Miss Bartender down as a "no," and tries to escape the crazy spurned woman. "I WILL NOT GIVE HIM UP WITHOUT A FIGHT," Miss Bartender says, grabbing onto Betty's wing, and ripping.
The ripping noise carries us back to Mode, as Eric rips open a Fed Ex envelope containing the headshot of a much older man. "Ew!" he says to Amanda. "I give up. How old is old to you?" He shows her the picture. "Ew. Older than my dad," Amanda says. Marc wonders what HE'S up to tonight. "Drinking. Embezzling. Apologizing," Amanda says. Marc notes that her father has very full life.
Enter Betty, all bedraggled and partially wing-less. "Aw, someone's turning back into a caterpillar," Amanda says, and tells Betty that she's still working on tracking down the last two addresses. Betty takes Amanda's stapler and is trying to fix her wing, but having no luck when Henry comes up behind her, and gives her a hand. It is pretty adorable. I can't help it. I have to drop my recapperly professionalism (shut up) and admit that I just love them together. I am about ten minutes away from writing a fan fic called The Circumference of My Heart. They're mid-wing-repair when Walter calls, AGAIN. Why so needy, Walter? Why don't you just email Betty and then torture yourself over whether she's gotten it yet, and, if so, why hasn't she written back, like any normal person in a relationship that's crumbling? Ahem. Or so I've heard. Anyway, Betty wisely sends Walter to voicemail, as Henry finishes fixing her wings. Is she not at all wise to the symbolism that the universe sends to us in everyday life? HE REPAIRED YOUR BROKEN WINGS. That means "love." Henry advises her to avoid crowded subway cars and blue jays. "Natural predators." And with that, he awkwardly asks her to lunch. "What? No!" Betty replies, shocked. Poor Henry looks stricken and scampers off, and Betty has to chase him down and tell him that she actually meant YES. Yes, she would love to have lunch with him