Debbie does dinner â€” Jenny and Lindsey are having dinner. How can you tell? Because Jenny is talking with her mouth full. Like, really juicily and grossly.
They talk about animals; Jenny wants to know if Lindsey works with animals because she doesn't trust people. Lindsey almost takes the bait, saying, "I didn't, not for a long time after I, uh … " but then thinks better of it. Jenny just keeps chomping and prodding: "Did something happen to you?" But Lindsey says she doesn't want to talk about it because she doesn't think it's fair to "force people to express sympathy for something that happened to you in your childhood."
Jenny/Debbie: Oh, I'm so sorry, but you know what? Own the s— that happens to you as a child, because you know what? It can make you better as an adult.
Yep. You're walking, talking, dog-killing proof of that, Jenny.
Lindsey really, really doesn't want to talk about, let alone "own," the stuff that happened to her as a child, so Jenny tries another approach:
Jenny/Debbie: You're kinda sexy. God, and you have nice t—. And you're sweating under your arms and you're nervous and I wanna kiss you.
Lindsey: I feel like kissing you. But I can't.
Because your mouth is full.
Nah, it's because Lindsey has a girlfriend, of course. She reveals that they're having problems because Stacey the journalist works too hard.
Jenny/Debbie: She's a writer? Ugh.
Lindsey: What? She gets totally focused on her work and then she's, like, obsessive and self-absorbed
Jenny/Debbie: Oh, my God, I just have this image in my mind of her. And she just becomes this f—ing c— and just turns out page after page of utter s— that she thinks is worth all the ego and maniacal behavior.
Lindsey: She is a good person, and she's smart and she's funny. She's just a little insecure, that's all.
Oh, come on. Jenny, why don't you just look directly at the camera and say, "This is all about me and the people who write me into being! Get it?"
Lindsey reveals that Stacey lives in Burbank (and Lindsey's in Santa Barbara), so they have an arrangement about going to each other's residences on the weekends, but Lindsey is carrying the larger burden in that little deal. Jenny says Lindsey deserves someone who will put her first and treat her like a princess.
Lindsey: She's driven and she's talented, and I feel honored to support that. I do.
But then she confesses that sometimes it feels like she's the last thing on Stacey's list. Is Stacey's list anything like Craig's list? Because those people never show up when they say they're going to come get your couch.
Lindsey wants to change the subject, so she asks Debbie what she's doing this weekend.
Jenny/Debbie: Well, I've been terribly distraught about the dog being put down, so I'm rather behind on my schoolwork.
Lindsey: Schoolwork? What are you studying? Seriously?
Jenny/Debbie: The gentle manatees of northeast Florida.
Lindsey snickers in a way that lets me know that the person who plays her (Caroline Cave) is all too familiar with the manatees thing. And I chortle too: That was hilarious.
This Debbie persona is weird. I mean, when Jenny started that "terribly distraught" sentence, she was extra affected, almost like she was doing some sort of Truman Capote-ish character. Oh, I forgot about Holly Goheavily.
Home smutty home â€” Tina and Henry come home just in time to see Hazel and Angus making out on the front step. The Valley Girl and the Quarterback duck down in the bushes for a minute â€” no, not the way Papi and Helena did. Ewww.
Tina: [after Hazel goes inside] She is so fired.
A magazine stand â€” Shay is looking at some comics. Bette saunters up and says hi.
Shane: He has a playdate with his friend.
Bette: Nice. That's probably the last word on earth I ever expected to be uttered from your lips.
Well, in that context, anyway.
Bette browses the magazines. She picks up The New Yorker, in which Jenny has apparently had a piece published. It's called "Lez Girls." Bette and Shane explain the pun for us plebeian viewers: It's a reference to Les Girls. Have I mentioned that I dig Gene Kelly? Three out of five lesbians agree.