While her home phone is ringing, Jen is busy with the dean of her school, pitching student interviews for her documentary and getting on more committees than Al Franken. Satisfied that she now has enough meetings to keep her away from Sam’s pouty mouth through 2030, Jen turns to leave, but is stopped by the dean’s cute assistant, Amy.
Amy suggests that instead of interviewing college kids about dating, Jen observe them in their natural habitat and invites her to a frat party. Actually, she’s asking Jen out on a date. “You are gay, right?” she chirps, eyelashes batting.
Jen looks down at her v-neck sweater and blazer and asks, “Do I seem gay to you?” Amy squeaks out a laugh, that way co-eds are known to do. I feel old.
Just then, Sam calls Jen’s cell. Jen’s not ready to process, so she pretends she’s taking her students out for coffee and can’t talk right now. Amy smiles sweetly as Jen pretends to be calling out to her students, “I’ll be right there!” and hangs up. Suddenly motivated to avoid Sam, Jen agrees to whoop it up at the frat house, much to Amy’s cougar-loving delight.
Over at Kris and Chris’s house, the ladies are calculating how much this baby is going to cost them. It’s not a pretty financial picture. Kris thinks that before they pour their last dime into a child, they should first get married. Chris isn’t overjoyed with the idea because she can only handle one huge, life-changing event at a time.
“First baby, then marriage,” she says firmly. Who does she think she is? Angelina Jolie?
Meanwhile, Jen is doing a crappy job of avoiding Sam, who knows her haunts and habits all too well. At the Beever Café, Jen hides behind a newspaper as Sam stares at her.
The only thing Inspector Clouseau is missing are holes cut out for her eyes. But nice try.
Sam wants, nay, needs to talk about what happened but Jen refuses. Sam wonders if she should tell Elizabeth. That is a Big Red No, too. Jen knows that can only end badly. Elizabeth will act weird around her. She won’t get to see Sam anymore. She’ll lose her best friend. Tell Elizabeth? Not in this economy.
Jen does not want to speak of it, and says in no uncertain terms, “It didn’t mean anything.” Nothing hurts a girl more than being told her kisses are snoozers.
Later that night, Jen is on her date with Amy at Theta Eta Nu Pi. You remember Theta don’t you? She’s the campus slut.
Anywho, Jen is being her usual dork self, dancing the Funky Chicken and drinking anything put under her nose. Amy yells over the din, “The last cougar I been out with didn’t drink! This is awesome!” She begs Jen to get up and play some Rock Band for her.
While Jen jams out with her clam out for her superfan, Sam is home, greeting Elizabeth in a slinky LBD, motioning to some candles and a KFC family meal. Elizabeth is romanced for all of two minutes, until she notices that Sam’s only moved in two more small boxes. What gives?
Sam blows off the moving-in topic and offers a delightful evening of eating quickly and going to bed. To sleep. But nothing’s wrong.
Across town, Kris is trying to convince Chris that a $500 wedding reception DJ is a bargain. “Only five hundred?” Chris exclaims, “We could get Devin to DJ for only a beer.” Good point. But poor Devin. She gets put to work more than Lilo’s defense attorney does.
Kris describes her dream wedding as “different”: an officiant, a tier cake and an open bar. When Kris says “different,” she means “every wedding you’ve ever been to.”
Over at Animal House, Amy is hot for teacher, but Jen is wary about their age diff. Wise beyond her years, Amy says she knows Jen is only on their date to take her mind off “some other girl” and she’s totes OK with that.
Later in Amy’s dorm room, Jen realizes she’s in bed with one of the Powerpuff girls. This is never going to work.
So, long, Lolita.