Changing the subject, Jen asks Sam about her adventures in real estate. "Did they like the house?" she asks as she cranes her neck. Sam says that what they didn’t like is "you." Jennifer is flabbergasted — she’s the kind of friend every parent loves.
Sam: I think they think you turned me gay.
Jen: Turned you gay? You were sleeping with girls before I was even kissing boys.
Sam: Yeah, but you were the first girlfriend I ever introduced them to, so …
That’s a compliment. I think.
Elsewhere, Chris comes home to find Kris in the lotus position, surrounded by candles. Jen and Sam aren’t the only ones seeking a little meditative respite.
What’s this now? Chris is taken aback — she hasn’t seen Kris folded up like a praying mantis since they first moved in together. She crouches down next to the candles and assures Kris she should feel free to backpack through Asia again, make maple syrup and basically return to anything she used to enjoy, with the possible exception of putting on a headband and Hammer pants.
As yoga wraps up, Jen and Sam roll up their mats. Sam’s sad her parents don’t seem to fully accept her, after all these years. Jen encourages her to tell her dad how happy she is being a breast-lovin’, skirt-chasin’, girl-flirtin’ lesbian, but Sam’s not sure if the time is right. Jen’s "The Right Time Rule" says sooner is better than later, but only because it hurts less.
Emmy drills Crutch on last quarter’s sales figures. Thanks to Emmy, Crutch has also added terms like "charge off" to her vocabulary, even though she has no earthly idea what the hell she’s saying. Crutch asks Emmy warily why she’s being so nice to her. Emmy covers her budding feelings by saying it’s smart business — she needs her storage room back.
Later, at the interview, Crutch sits in the Moonstruck Coffee offices in full drag: heels, skirt, hoop earrings and an upswept, corporate hairdo (except hers is the color of Jell-O.) Crutch says all the right things — the things Emmy taught her to say verbatim — but the scrawny manager behind the desk isn’t impressed.
Manager: And you went to school where?
Crutch: I almost finished two years at Bakersfield Junior College, where I majored in … various things.
Manager: Ms., uh, Michaels, I have resumes from people who are actual college graduates.
Crutch is doomed to a life in the storage room.