Scenes from Last Week's Episode: Dawnie slaps Ty. Jesse dumps some guy. Sam twangs away. Russell announces he's gay. Dawnie slaps Ty again.
In The Apartment Formerly Known As Another Apartment Altogether, Dawnie answers the phone. It's Ty Swindell calling from a pay phone. Since last week, he seems to have gotten himself some Frost 'n' Tip highlights. "How brave of you to call," Dawnie hisses. "Still mad, huh?" Ty asks. "'Mad' doesn't have enough syllables," says Dawnie, though of course she could get Sam to drawl it out to two or three more vowel sounds. Ty and Dawnie have a tense little conversation in which Ty tries to apologize "for everything," except his new Mr. Clairol look. Dawnie tells him she doesn't think they should be talking right now, and Ty is like, "Whatever." "So why did you call?" asks Dawnie, thinking that Ty was calling just for her on her Very Own Personal Snotline. Au contraire, Ty is calling for Russ. Dawnie realizes for a second that not everything is about her, but it quickly passes, and she deliberately drops the phone on the desk and screams "RUSS!" Then she picks it up again and says, sarcastically, "Dropped the phone!" Which isn't, like, a fragile piece of equipment or anything. That Russell probably PAID FOR or anything. "Look, if me calling was a bad idea, just let me know," says Ty. "No, not at all!" says Dawnie, who repeatedly bangs the receiver against the desk like it was an old shoe and screams for Russ some more while Ty winces.
Opening credits. Then a commercial for Luvs, as if we need any more self-absorbency in this time slot.
Dawnie's at the bar called "Callbacks" (slogan: "Where The Decor Is Fancy But The Bartender's Vandy"). She tells Vandy she's researching people's pockets and purses for her anthropology thesis project. Oh, come on, Dawnie; not even the stupidest tourist would fall for that line, so you'll just have to find some other way to rob them on the subway. But no, it turns out she is completely serious about this pocket thing being "research." She says, "In keeping with my second coming-of-age theory, I believe that people's possessions can reveal their identities." Wow. Maybe it's due to a certain pocket and purse phenomenon known as -- what's the scientific term for it? Oh, yeah -- the DRIVER'S LICENSE?
Vandy doesn't want to empty his pockets. "Come on!" begs Dawnie. "I have to meet with my professor in two days to make sure I'm on the right track!" I'm not sure if the track even matters, sweetie, because you're The Little Engine That Just Shouldn't. But Vandy hauls out his wallet, which contains a Lotto ticket, a picture of Sam, and an old Bazooka comic that he says he kept for the fortune. "Why is it that dreamers always have such a hold on the past?" asks Dawnie, like it's really important or something. Vandy gets annoyed and asks if she goes through Russell's wallet, too. "I'm not speaking to Russell," she says, and goes on to say that she's written him off as a traitor because he's friends with Ty. Vandy says Ty's his friend too, and Dawnie bitches, "Don't you play the guy card. It's sickening and adolescent. He needs to be accountable for his actions!" She goes on, "There will be no sympathy for Tyler Swindell. I get the sympathy here! Just when did he become the victim?" Yeah, was it after Slap Number One or Slap Number Two? Vandy changes the subject and asks about what his pocket stuff reveals about himself. "That you've always resisted a structured life," says Dawnie, "and that you're a carefree artsy type whose future is trapped by his past." Oh, that's good to know, because we hadn't been able to tell from his scuzzy dark clothes, or his guitar playing, or his scenes with Sam, or his leather 'n' bead necklace, or his character description on the ABC site, or his hair, that he was a "carefree artsy type." Thanks for pulling that out of your butt for us, Dawnie. Then she adds, "Oh, and you're a disloyal swine to friends who have stuck by you through thick and thin." Yeah, yeah. Be sure to write that down in your big fat research notebook that you totally don't even carry around.