Correction â€” It’s not the dance floor she pulls Jen toward. It’s a darkened storage room. Away from the crowd, Jen and the dancing firefighter are going at it without so much as a howdy-do. The P-town sweatshirt finally comes off.
There are eager hands everywhere and lots of kissing, but all too quickly, Jen loses her momentum. Dancing firefighter senses the drop in temperature and backs away. Jennifer’s mortified. She apologizes. Jen’s more of a flowers-and-candles girl than a what’s-yer-name-again? girl. Can’t we do both?
Oh well. It’s still nice to try new things.
Back at the party, normally hap-hap-happy Kris is angry. Chris is talking and laughing with a woman they were both dirty dancing with mere moments ago. Kris watches and snorts on jealous disgust.
Which brings us to the Lesbian Etiquette Rule. This rule states you can press, bump, grind and hump anyone you like on the dance floor. But off the dance floor, if you so much as ask that same woman which way is the bathroom, that’s just wrong. Being a gay woman is very complicated and not for the weak.
Just then, the cockatiel gets loose. Feathers are flying. It briefly lands on Jen’s head. It flaps out of the room and into the night. Kris and Chris chase after it. Hilarity ensues.
Farewell, Provincetown â€” The next day at the Beever Café ("Y" eat anywhere else?), Kris and Chris are organizing Missing Cockatiel flyers. They’re wearing matching sweaters, natch, the oldest visual gag in the lesbian humor repertoire. And yet, it still works.
Kris is still peeved about Chris’ flirtations last night. Chris apologizes over and over until Kris gives in, smiles and buries her head in Chris’ neck. Yeah, after that ninth mango daiquiri, it was just the mangos talking.
The others force Jen to watch the wedding video that Crutch shot. Delightful. Hasn’t she suffered enough? Jen asks, "What’s the point of great sex without some kind of emotional connection?" Because some things are their own reward? Oh, Jennifer. You have much to learn.
Jen wants more from life than a series of meaningless orgasms. Isn’t "meaningless orgasm" an oxymoron? Crutch doesn’t get this kind of crazy talk either. Becca, still hanging in there, sits all up in Sam’s business, enjoying a piece of Sam’s earlobe.
Suddenly the cockatiel appears out of nowhere, landing on a hand rail. Kris and Chris think it’s a sign and chase after it. The others follow.
Alone at last, Jen gazes thoughtfully into the café’s fireplace. She takes her Provincetown sweatshirt out of a bag, gives it one last, long look and throws it into the fire. It’s a gas fireplace.
Next week on Exes & Ohs: Jen finally starts dating. Kris and Chris make a big decision. Crutch trades some magic beans for a guitar that will make her sound like Amy Ray.
Watch Michelle Paradise’s weekly video blog for behind-the-scenes anecdotes and answers to your questions about Exes & Ohs.