Josh is frustrated with the ins and outs of seeking a relationship as a guy. Girls have it so much easier! He says girls could just walk outside and get sex. Yup. Mmhmm. Because sex = a relationship.
He calls his sister, Liz, for advice, who ignores his call to deal with the awkward breakup she’s experiencing. We’re called right back to the first episode as Liz walks down the street post-dumping, followed by a storm cloud that curiously drops rain, hail, AND fish.
Liz visits with her friend Katie, who is hosting a tea birthday party for her daughter and her friends (presumably), in an attempt to move on. She sips wine, talks about how great work is, but is in total denial about how hurt she is. Liz decides to be the courier of a bubble water refill for the young ones out back and as she pours fresh servings for the girls, they tell Liz that they’re discussing their husbands.
Liz: I bet you’re married to Mr. Tiger over there, huh? Rawr!
Little Girl 1: My husband’s name is Richard Kaplan.
Liz: Holy crap, is that a real diamond?!
Little Girl 1: It better be or Richard’s in big trouble!
The little girls begin a truly awful conversation about the quality of wedding rings, cuts, settings, etc. All these girls are blinging and Liz is a little shocked that all these girls seem to be married. She calls her friend Katie over to confirm this, but little Jamie is revealed to be the single girl of the tea party. She’s starting karate in the fall, almost certain she’s going to make the honor roll, but she’s not very happy. She’s seven-years-old, AKA her late single digits, and she’s still the single girl at the tea party. Jamie’s going to a dark place, and Liz tries to assure her that she has plenty of time to worry about boys. She’s way older than these kids and she’s not married.
Tea Party Clique: YOU’RE NOT MARRIED?!
Liz needs to get a move on. At 29, she’s older than one of the girls’ dead cat’s bones! Older than bones! The girls want to set Liz up; she doesn’t have as much time as she thinks.
Liz: Excuse me, but my life isn’t defined by whether or not I have a man in it! You might be too young to understand this, but if and when I decide to get married and have a family it’ll be because I want to do it, not because I got bullied by a bunch of second graders. And by the way, 29 is nowhere near a million. you need to brush up on your math.
Little Girl 1: You’re right, I’m not that good with numbers. But even if you meet a guy today, and you only dated him one year before getting engaged, and it takes you a year to plan the wedding, and it takes you at least one year to get pregnant, and you want to have at least two kids, and you want them to be at least two years apart, and you want to do all this before you turn 40 – because man, after that, you’re really playing with fire in terms of a whole host of fertility problems – then I’d say you really don’t have a lot of time to meet this perfect, mystery man. But like you said, I’m still learning math.
OUCH. Liz is cut so deep that she’s unconsciously cuddling one of the stuffed tea party attendees just as Katie brings out Jamie’s birthday cupcakes. Jamie passes them over to Liz to blow out the candles. “You probably need this more than I do,” she says sympathetically, but the whole party has become a downer.
At the office, Liz checks her calendar and realizes that her personal life is chronically empty. On top of that, her 30th birthday is looming. She notices a couple of colleagues in full bandage dress and stiletto regalia and asks if she can tag along with them to…wherever they’re going. In five minutes, Liz dusts off an extremely dusty makeup bag, puts in contacts, hikes her boobs up, takes off her work blazer, puts on some great red lipstick, lets her hair down, and she’s ready!
The ladies arrive at a bar/club situation and Liz is talking to a nice-seeming guy at the bar. He’s attractive and funny and they try to set up a date. Liz suggests coffee, but the guy follows a Paleo diet which just isn’t going to get it for Liz. She excuses herself and makes a “yucky” face as she writes him off. Her friends complain that Liz has found something wrong with all of the guys in the bar, and she says it’s because they all have something wrong with them. What does Liz want in a man?
Liz: I’m looking for, like, a nice, smart guy who’s moderately attractive. And you know, it’d be kind of cool if he played an instrument or something, like a banjo. And he should have some money, because I have some money. But he can’t be into the fact that he has money, or intimidated by the fact that I have money. He’s generous and sensitive. He’s not afraid to cry, but he will kill someone to protect his family. I also want him to live in my neighborhood because I have very limited free time, as you know.
Friends: Yeah, I think you’re going to have to settle for a little bit less than all that. Because that man you just described doesn’t exist.
Erm, hmm. In the bathroom, Liz talks to herself in the mirror. “You’re still young. You’re attractive, and making partner is right around the corner! No, I won’t settle! If he doesn’t exist, I will create him!”
Cut to Mad Scientist Liz in a cemetery robbing a grave and taking it to a morgue. Assisted by her Igor, she’s assembled qualities from several men to make her perfect one and he’s alive! His name is Frank, he’s gorgeous, plays classical guitar, he’s Jewish – and he’s gay.
Liz: I thought I made the perfect man!
Frank: You did. And he’s gay.
Liz is saddened and naturally Igor thinks this small showing of vulnerability is an opening to put the moves on her. “No,” she says, “That’s never going to happen. You’re my employee.” So he calls her a bitch. Because she was the one being creepy and inappropriate.
Desperate, Liz lets her mom set her up with Chip, Dr. Fringle’s son who Liz went to summer camp with. Chip, as it turns out, is a robot, calling us back to the first episode when Liz sets Josh up with a troll. Chip is excruciatingly boring and can only speak technically, apparently, so Liz starts crushing the red wine. Then Chip pulls out several cheesy and not so cheesy compliments – he says he’s always had a crush on her, he uses his flamethrower to cook her rare steak a little more – leading to some dancing (the robot, of course) and then back to Liz’s place. With a whir and a boink, the sex began and ended, so Chip begins to make an awkward exit. He doesn’t want a relationship, he just got out of a long term thing, and he can’t bother to find the door to leave so he walks through Liz’s wall instead.
After this fiasco, Liz is flipping through photos of her and Leo when Josh stops by for advice about what he should say to a girl he’s trying to date. He notices Liz crying and tells her that she’s the smartest person he knows and everyone should listen to her about relationships. She’s sad but willing to help him learn to communicate (beginning with realizing that phones do register a call even if you hang up before the call hits voicemail) when he notices the big hole in her wall.
Liz: Yeah, I…I don’t want to talk about that.