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Thank God that scene was brief — Unfortunately, we're now in the midst of another writers' meeting. This time the topic is romance, and Claire and Noel are staring at each other a little too much.

Craggy (I really should call her Soggy instead, 'cause she's kinda wrecked) decides to give a lesson in hugging, in order to demonstrate that straight women are “uptight and rigid.” She gives Tara and Lynn a little scenario: They are long-lost sorority sisters who run into each other at JFK. “Go ahead,” Craggy tells them. “Hug.” Their hug is tentative. Craggy's assessment: “Skin contact: 20 percent.”

Scenario two is between Craggy and B.J., playing the parts of two lesbians who have just met at a potluck. I can't even talk about their plaid shirts. But they do hug pretty well: “Note the full body contact.”

Tara: And they just met at a potluck?

Heh.

Craggy takes umbrage at Tara's remark, of course, and things get tense. Craggy mocks the “throbbing bullshit” Tara writes “to alienate women from themselves.”

Claire: We don't want to lose our sense of humor, now do we? Fantasy is healthy. Right, doc?
Noel: As long as we know where to draw the line.
Craggy: [drunkenly] That's right. Draw … the … line. Try to clean it up: It'll never change the way it was, darlin'. It never has, and it never will. If you eat p***y, you eat p***y.

And if you write crap, you write crap.

Things they are a-changin' in Cabin 4 — Claire and Noel kind of run into each other in the doorway (no doubt a little tipsy themselves). Claire asks Noel whether she thinks it's true, about the way straight women hug.

Noel: Maybe an overgeneralization.

Maybe. It could also be a generalization, without the “over,” but that wouldn't sound as impressive.

Anyway, Claire thinks it's true. But she can only say so to the empty kitchen, because Noel has gone to bed.

More tension — As Claire plays, she wonders about Noel, and then she moves to the mirror to stare at herself as she unravels her braid and unbuttons her shirt. Noel comes in, looking for aspirin. I get that they've become friendly, but why is Noel just waltzing into Claire's bedroom without knocking first? Lesbians are so rude.

Oh, and you know how you can tell Noel is gay? The pinkie ring. Not that there are any stereotypes or (over)generalizations in this movie.

Never mind: Noel's quest for aspirin leads Claire to offer a massage for that headache. Claire unbuttons Noel's shirt in order to better, um, massage her. Like we haven't all tried that one. But just as Noel leans closer to Claire, Claire gets freaked out and stops.

Claire then announces that she's bored. She asks, “Got any ideas?”

Noel looks like she wants to say “well, duh,” but they end up playing backgammon again. They make a wager: The winner gets to do a shot of tequila, and the loser has to part with a fantasy. Of course, they play twice.

Claire's fantasy involves some shirtless guy in 501s, just sort of standing there as she sidles up to him and grabs his crotch. Yawn. Well, yawn and eww — not because of the crotch, but because of the accompanying elevator music. Saxophones should not sound like synthesizers.

Noel's fantasy is a bit more active: She makes eye contact with a woman at a restaurant, then gets up and goes to the ladies' — and the woman follows. As they have sex in the stall, the woman morphs into Claire.

Oh, I forgot to mention that Nicole Conn (director, writer, philosopher) is in the restaurant scene; she's sitting next to Noel and smoking. Watch for it if you dare.

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