Cast your mind back, if you will, to November 2010. Not because of Thanksgiving or the U.S. midterm elections or Jill Clayburgh’s death or Ingrid Pitt’s death — the two extremes of feminism, you might say — or for any other historical or cultural or seasonal item of note. But because that’s when the season/series 1 finale of Lip Service aired.

November 2010. That is 17 months ago! And I had to really think hard about that, because how often do you count out 17 months? It’s not a span of time that makes any kind of sense to the human brain. “Maybe I need another vacation. I went to Mykonos 17 months ago.” Nobody says that! “My job duties have really changed a lot in the last 17 months.” Nope. Never uttered. “But I told you all about this 17 months ago!” Take your Mayan calendar and your abacus and get the hell out of here.

But amyray, we’re back! Yes! We’re back in Glasgow, and even if you can’t say anything else about the inherent qualities of 17 months as a block of time, you can probably assume that it involved at least one haircut and/or new hairstyle. In this case, it involved at least 6.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Which is the opposite of Frankie, who is behind on her bills.

Frankie looks more than different. She seems almost transformed somehow. I wasn’t really drawn to her at all last season, but something about her new look is making me look. What have you been up to, Mighty_Minto?

As Frankie sifts through the rubble of her fiscal wasteland, I get distracted by the lyrics of the song that is playing (“Keep Me in Your Heart” by Bill Wells and Aidan Moffat):

Keep me in your phone
Keep me on your key ring
Keep me rolling around about the bottom of your bag
And keep me in your hall
Keep me in your bathroom
Keep me hanging up, stretched out and dripping next to you

What? This is like a song you make up when you’re a kid and you’re just wandering around empty-headed and aimless, enjoying the sunshine and making sounds that turn into words but have no meaning behind them or really anywhere near them.

Frankie is not empty-headed at all, though: her brain is still saying CAT CAT CAT the way a stereotypical dog’s might (but I am not saying Frankie is a dog, unless you mean it in a cool “dawg” sort of way).

Frankie calls (I feel like I should say “rings,” but that would be pretentious of me) the object of her intermittent affection. After one of those charming double-rings, it goes to voice mail, so Frankie sends an email instead.

Apparently Cat’s email address is [email protected]. Hang on, I need to email her something real quick.

Frankie kind of rocks back and forth a bit, as if she’s feeling lost without Cat.

I do feel a little sympathy for her, but not enough to rock back and forth or anything. I am not anti-Frankie in a general way, but I am definitely on Team Sam.

And there’s my team! Sam and Cat are just getting back from a trip to Rio. They’re discussing an Awkward Airport Security Moment:

Cat: I told you we shouldn’t take any toys.
Sam: He so fancied you. I think we made his day!

Wait, why was that offstage? We need to see these things! But nope, we’ve moved on to kissing. Which is probably better than the airport security thing.

They’re so busy kissing, they don’t realize they’re at the end of the escalator. Cat almost trips and falls. This is no joke, people! Escalators can kill!

But looks can’t kill, even when they’re delivered by homophobes going up the other escalator. Sam just stares back and says “hi.” ‘Cause she’s great like that.

Cat plays with her necklace; Sam compliments her on it.

Cat: I wonder who gave me that?

I bet I know! That hot cop right next to you! And I understand your confusion: I wouldn’t remember who gave me my own name, let alone my necklace.

Suddenly they’re back at their apartment, and the sunglasses are on the other head. I don’t mean that like “the shoe’s on the other foot”; I mean the continuity person was napping (cf. previous kiss photo). Or maybe it’s all just part of the escalator-riding, toy-revealing, necklace-fiddling aura of young love.

Cat: Shouldn’t we at least unpack?
Sam: You seriously want to unpack?

Obviously the next line should have been “No, but I seriously want to see what you’re packing.” They set it up so perfectly, with that mention of the toys! What a missed opportunity.

They do end up doing it right there on the kitchen floor, but that’s offstage too. This time I don’t care, because it’s a preposterous idea: who really wants to have sex when they’re just getting home from a trip? I’m not saying Cat had a better idea, because I don’t want to unpack the minute I get home either. But sex? No. The first thing you do when you get home from a trip is order some food, flop down on the couch, and catch up on all the TV you missed while you were away. This is true even if Sam is present, and I do not say that lightly.

Tess is trying to watch her new girlfriend (Fin, the “spark” she met at the end of last season) play football. Doesn’t she look enthralled?

Fin even scores a goal.

Then the ball finds its way to the fence near Tess, and Fin and her mates expect Tess to kick it back onto the field. Like you would.

She resists, then finally gives it a try. It goes about 1.2 feet, so she picks it up and throws it instead. It goes a teeny bit farther. Poor Tess! All the footballers are chuckling and tsking and making it very clear that she’s not a real lesbian. All Tess can do is sigh and wince.

They all go for breakfast, where Fin’s friends continue to mock Tess’s lack of athleticism and love of sleeping late.

Fin: Oy! Leave her alone. She’s got plenty of other skills.

As another somewhat artistic type who has been in the presence of taunting athletic types, I feel your pain, Tess. But I don’t think the feisty footballers really mean anything by it; it’s just their “way,” you know? Just pretend you’re in Bend It Like Beckham. Except instead of Keira Knightley (yawn) or Parminder Nagra (shrug), you’ve got Fin, who’s just as cute and way more gay. (And much to everyone’s great relief, she looks nothing like that other Fin(n).)

Despite the awkwardness (or maybe because of it), I’m happy to see Tess! Let’s take a moment to reflect on the fact that Tess is played by Fiona (cute as a) Button. Talk about an aptonym.

Wait, maybe I’m already over Fin. Ed texts Tess about an upcoming play, and Tess asks Fin whether she wants to go. Fin mumbles about being busy. I would love to go to the theater with you absolutely anytime, Tess. I’d even sit through the lobotomizing production of Jean Genet’s The Maids that I endured off-Broadway last month. Hmm. Maybe I take that back. Is Sam coming too?

Bored Frankie is watching boring TV. But this new flat looks pretty fab. As in, you could probably buy some of those pillows and things on Fab.com.

Like everyone else in the world, when TV fails her, Frankie turns to the internet. She starts to check her mail; there’s a message with the subject “Fwd: Scotland Form,” sent to [email protected]. Before we can think about what that might mean, Tess breezes in and Frankie slams her MacBook shut. Yeah, be careful, Frankie: it’s one thing for Tess to catch you underneath a grunting Jay, but you mustn’t scar her for life with the sight of you reading email.

Frankie: Have you had any more calls about the ad?
Cat: Uh, a bloke who sounded excited about living with lesbians, and a woman who sounded drunk.

See how much shorter the whole roommate search thing could have been on The L Word?

Frankie expresses her strong desire to get a flatmate very soon. She’s not even sure she’ll be able to pay her own share of the rent much longer, if she doesn’t get a job. I don’t understand how the person who had that amazing apartment in NYC last season can suddenly be out of money. They don’t even let you stand on the same block as an apartment like that if you’re not pulling down a cool 10 mil a year.

Frankie asks Tess whether she’s heard from Cat. Why, yes, as a matter of fact, Tess has. This news turns Frankie into a Lichtenstein painting.

Frankie’s eyes seems so much more alive so far this season. I guess suffering really does build character?

Frankie jumps up and leaves in a burst of feigned nonchalance. “Bye?” shrugs Tess.

Frankie stomps along and finds herself staring up at the window of Cat’s flat, much like she stared up at the window of Cat’s office in the very first episode. But this time the face at the fenester is Sam’s. At first I want her to see Frankie, but then I don’t, and she doesn’t. It’s much too soon for the triangle to come crashing in on itself!

At a … hmm, some sort of quirky vintage shop, Tess ruminates while Ed stands patiently by. Awww, Ed.

Tess is worried about Frankie, who hasn’t even slept with anyone since breaking up with Sadie. Ed gripes about his own dry spell. Tess assures him that he’ll have plenty of groupies once his book is published, but he doesn’t want to wait that long.

Ed: I’ve decided I’m gettin’ laid tonight.
Tess: Ah. It’s gay disco night at Rubies; I kind of told people we’d go there.

Poor Ed. He’s pretty much the Eeyore of this group. (Also, poor us that “disco” doesn’t actually mean disco the way it did on Glee last week. I’d pay good money to see Sam do that pistols-at-your-hip disco move, or the lasso thing. Or pretty much all of Nick’s disco routine in the “Discos and Dragons” episode of Freaks and Geeks.)

Tess tries to get Ed to focus on the task at hand: helping her find some clothes that say “serious actress.” Ed wants to know why Fin isn’t doing this instead.

Tess: She’s at work. And anyway, shopping’s not really her thing.

As a sentient life form with more than one brain cell, Ed finds it amusing that Tess would date someone who’s more into football than shopping.

Tess: Well, at least she’s nice to me, unlike every other woman I’ve dated.

Tess! I would be nice to you. And I would make you go to lots of theater but no football. Actually, never mind: I don’t really want to date you at all. But my girlfriend and I would both like to hang out with you and help you memorize your lines or anything else. Because you’re cute as a Button, Fiona!

Tess also notes that the sex with Fin is grrrrrreat.

Tess: Most of my other girlfriends have been really selfish in bed. But she’s, like, really, really… Well, she’s just… she’s just really good.

Ed and the rest of us were about to drool for a minute there. Stop tantalizing the Eeyores, Tigger Tess!

Tess claims not to be worried about not having enough in common with Fin and notes that they’ve only been together for 2 months. 2 months? It’s been 17 on my planet! Einstein should be glad he only had to deal with the twin paradox, rather than TV perplexities.

At chez consternation, there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” says the spider to the fly. Cat looks terrified or thrilled or something. I don’t know what to do with my hands or feet or eyebrows or corpuscles right now, because this sort of situation is exactly what makes this show so deliciously maddening.

Having confirmed that Tess is out, Cat only gets more terrified. But she apologizes for not telling Frankie that she was back in town, and inquires as to Frankie’s health.

Frankie: Been better. It’s not been fun sitting around waiting to find out what you want.
Cat: Well, now you know how it feels.

Ouchie. Wait, I think I just figured out why Frankie is so much more appealing to me this season. She sorta looks like Delirium of The Endless.

I don’t mean this as a negative thing. I’ve always adored Delirium — and she used to be called Delight. Maybe when Cat fell in love with Frankie originally, she was more on the Delight end of the spectrum.

Cat apologizes for her below-the-belt retort. Frankie, proving she’s British through and through, offers Cat some tea.

Frankie: Tess seems to have gone all lesbian on me and brought a million herbal varieties.

That joke never gets old! Actually, maybe it just did.

They banter a little about Tess and tea, and Cat seems a little more friendly. Frankie steps forward to make her move, but Cat is steadfast.

Cat: I can’t sleep with you anymore, Frankie. It was a mistake.

Ouchie again! Cat insists that she loves Sam and doesn’t want to leave her, but when Frankie forces her hand with “And you don’t love me?” a cat gets Cat’s tongue. And then this happens.

But Cat pushes Frankie away with an “I can’t do this” and pushes herself right out the door.

I still don’t quite understand why or how or what the whole story is, but I’ll admit that there was some chemistry in that kiss. (If you’re on Team Frankie, this is where you yell “SOME?!” at the device on which you’re reading this. Try to do it on the subway or in a crowded Starbucks, because that way you can identify other team members and maybe reenact the scene [complete with tea, if you’re in the second location].)

At the office, Jay is looking at pictures of hot ladies and working on his Stanley Tucci impersonation.

They talk about work and pitches and clients and plans, until Cat asks Jay if he’s got something to smoke.

Cat: I don’t mean cigarettes.

Aaaaand that’s why the second season premiered on 4/20!

But hang on a tic: is this the buttoned-up Cat we thought we were getting to know way back in 2010? I guess we might not know her very well yet; after all, 6 episodes does not a full-fledged character make. But toking up at work just doesn’t seem like her style. Jay doesn’t think so either, but accepts her excuse of “I just went to see Frankie.”

So they smoke up on the roof, and before Cat even takes a hit, she gets all blabby and tells Jay that she slept with Frankie just before the Rio thing.

OK. Let’s think about this. Either Cat (1) is really desperate for a confidant and will take whatever she can get; (2) secretly wishes Sam would find out the horrible truth and is therefore telling the loosest-lipped person she knows other than Tess; or (3) got bit by some exotic Brazilian spider of the genus and species Ploticus Advancerarius. My money is on 3.

Cat insists that Sam can’t find out. Oh, Cat: generally, when the goal is to keep a secret, you should slam shut your MacBook or your mouth, not let them flap. And then when Jay tries to understand the whole thing, Cat refuses to talk about it anymore. I’ve heard this is a known effect of the spider bite: you go from Chatty Cathy to Silent Bob in the space of 20 seconds.

Frankie seeks solace in her mother’s bosom. OK, not literally: this isn’t Boardwalk Empire.

Just like Cat did, Frankie’s mom says she hasn’t called because she’s been busy. Also, she reckons her liaison with Frankie’s dad was pretty much a mistake.

A real cat ran by while Frankie and her mum were talking about Cat. It wasn’t a black cat, but this whole relationship is obviously cursed and/or a fairy tale.

Frankie’s mum’s husband comes home then, and Frankie is unceremoniously escorted out the side door. Shoo, black sheep!

Back in the high-stakes world of architectural nonspecificity, Cat and Jay are off their faces. Alistair sees this as a perfect time to tell them that they’ll have to do a Very Important Presentation in just a few short/long/timeless-by-virtue-of-hash hours.

Cat is trying to retain control by repeating nouns and moving verrrry slowly and keeping her face as still as possible, but she’s still really obviously stoned. She and Jay giggle about Volvos or something. The only thing that’s missing is a groovy soundtrack.

I sorta want to put this recap on hold so I can eat some special brownies, but I’ll refrain. See how I sacrifice things for my art?

In an idyllic spot that might be a garden but might just be Scotland generally, Frankie comes upon Buddha Sadie.

Frankie accuses Sadie of arranging to have her rent raised, out of spite or heartbreak. But actually, Sadie is no longer an estate agent, which is probably a good thing considering her kleptomaniac and property-destroying tendencies. Plus her unemployed state seems to have bestowed some profound wisdom upon her:

Sadie: It’s not my fault you’re unhappy, Frankie. Sort yourself out and stop acting like a fucking cock.

I have achieved enlightenment!

Natasha O’Keeffe had an air of “I am a fan favorite, bitches” as she delivered that line. Well done.

At the flat with the ballooning rent, there’s a knock at the door.

Meet Lexy, the perfect potential flatmate. She is a doctor from Australia. She is not a serial killer.

Lexy: I used to dabble, but it was murder getting the bloodstains out of my clothes.

Punny! Now that this Australian accent has been tossed into the mix, I think Lip Service has reached the sexy accent saturation point. Yes, I’m a shallow, easily impressed American. Oooh, speaking of that, let’s not add an American accent to the list anytime soon, OK? Are you listening, Harriet Braun? (And does Ruta Gedmintas really call you “haribo“?! Because that is delightful.)

Lexy has been living with her grandmother. And it seems that serial killer line was apparently just the tip of the droll, witty Lexy iceberg.

Lexy: I wouldn’t mind; it’s just she’s got a lot of pets and I’m trying to kick the whole bestiality thing.

Silly Tess. You’re sharper than that; you were just temporarily dazzled by the whole Sexy package. (I promise this is the last time I’ll call her Sexy. Too easy.)

Lexy likes the flat, and she likes Tess’s country-and-western CDs. Well, OK, I like Johnny Cash’s At Folsom Prison too, but we can’t really let that represent the whole genre, can we? That’s like saying you’re a fan of wrought iron because you like the Eiffel Tower.

But Tess and Lexy sure do have a lot in common, especially compared to the whole awkward footballer scene earlier. Lexy even loves Uncle Vanya.

Lexy: They’re doing it at the Tron, aren’t they?
Tess: Yeah, actually, uh, I’m playing Sonya.
Lexy: (quite impressed) Really?!
Tess: (nodding)
Lexy: That’s so cool!

Genuine smiles all around!

Not quite the reaction you got from Fin, eh, Tess? It is very cool, and I can definitely picture you as Sonya. You might not be as amazing as Mamie Gummer was when she made Maggie Gyllenhaal look like an amateur a few years ago, but I’d still like to see your interpretation.

Also, Lexy, as I’m sure you know, Sonya’s love interest in Vanya is a doctor. Maybe you can run lines with Tess, just so she can get the feel of things.

Tess: I bought a selection of tea the other day, so that when we have guests, I can say, “Do you want a cup of tea? We have a selection.” Um… do you want one?
Lexy: Oh, only if you have a selection.

It’s all going far too swimmingly. Surely doom is on the horizon.

Back at Smiley Face Office, Cat is trying to sober up. She tries splashing cold water on her face and wonders whether there’s a tea one can drink. I’ll bet Tess has that in her selection!

Cat: Fffaaahhhkk.

Actually, I’m not sure you can really say Fffaaahhhkk when you have Cat’s lovely accent. It’s more like Ffffuuuoohhkk.

Jay is not helping Cat at all, except in the sense of making everything seem extra hilarious.

And then they really have to do this presentation. They’re still a little giggly, and Jay has the munchies, but Cat mostly seems serene and philosophical. She tries to remember the name of “those lovely orange-pink flowers,” the ones with the different color on the edges so it seems “like someone’s drawn it on with pen.”

Suddenly Cat remembers what those flowers are called: begonias.

From now on, whenever I have an a-ha moment, I’m going to call it a begonias moment.

Cat turns the presentation over to Jay, who’s too busy munching and tells the clients, “If you don’t go for this pitch, we might starve to death!” — which causes Cat to do a spit take that is somehow not as funny as the begonias moment.

The flatmate interview is still going swimmingly. Tess asks Lexy whether she’s got any “pets or kids or wives” to worry about, but nope, Lexy is “footloose and fancy-free.” Aaaaand cue Frankie.

I’m sure you don’t need the explanation, really, but it’s refreshing that Frankie is straightforward about it:

Frankie: We hooked up, and I was a bit of a cock and left without saying goodbye. But if it’s any consolation, I’m often a cock, so it really isn’t personal.

If you close your eyes while Frankie’s saying that, you’ll think you’re listening to the dulcet tones of Lena Headey. They even look a bit alike.

OMG, Frankie’s a Lannister! This explains so much.

Lexy tries to make a hasty exit, but Tess doesn’t let her and pleads with Frankie to apologize. And you know what, Frankie does!

Lexy: Ah, fuck it. Life’s too short to bear a grudge.

Hooray! Lexy’s even going to go to Rubies with them tonight. Tess is delighted. She’s slightly less delighted when Fin comes in; Tess forgets her manners and wanders off, leaving Fin to introduce herself as “Tess’s girlfriend.” Uh-oh.

Cat and Sam are getting ready for gay disco night. Once again I’m sad that this doesn’t involve flared jumpsuits or platform shoes. But it does involve a new look for Sam.

Cat: I like you with a bit of eye makeup. It suits you.

Hmm. I’m not sure about the eye makeup. But please say the word “suit” in every episode, Cat, because it reminds me of Helen Stewart.

Cat is knackered and doesn’t want to go out. Funny: all this time, I thought “knackered” meant “exhausted,” but now I know it means “terrified I’m going to shag Frankie right there on the dance floor.”

Sam: That last thing you need is to sit around brooding about that bloody pitch. A couple of drinks will do you good.

So close! You’re only off by one consonant, Sam.

And then we’re all at Rubies, toasting Ed’s great success. Ed is still dismayed that he’s celebrating at a gay bar, where he can’t get laid. But Jay says he can find the ladies anywhere, if he has the “three C’s.” Fin doesn’t know what those are. Frankie does! “Cocky, confident, and charming.” Sam and Cat have opposite reactions to this notion.

Sam: Alternatively, Ed, you could just try being friendly and see if you have anything in common.
Frankie: Oh, yeah, if you wanna send people to sleep.
Sam: (with a steely stare) Yeah? It worked for me.

Lexy senses the tension in the room. Even the emotionless robot in Ed’s sci-fi novel can sense it. So Jay changes the subject to Lexy, who works in A & E at a hospital (accident and emergency, aka an ER.) Turns out Sam spent a lot of time there when she was training.

Lexy seems more than a little interested in Sam. Why doesn’t Cat care?

As usual, Jay knows how to turn the party up a notch: he’s brought some coke with him. Lexy and Frankie are totally up for it, but Ed tries (and fails) to resist. So they all go into a stall together.

Ed: What if something goes wrong?

Lexy uses her doctor-ness to assure him that he’ll be fine. But I don’t know, Ed: right before watching this, I caught part of an episode of Locked Up Abroad in which this upstanding former soldier found himself smuggling hash into the UK. Something definitely went wrong there. He was OK, because he was a black belt, but I’m guessing you’re not.

Ed: If I die, tell my parents it was peer pressure.

Is it wrong of me to sometimes want Ed to end up with Tess after all? He’s such a sweet little Eeyore.

Cat wanders into the bathroom, just in time to see Frankie come out of the stall.

Many long, lingering looks pass between them. Expect to see this sentence several times this season.

It looks like Frankie’s about to kiss Cat, but she decides to just tease her a little instead. Which is exactly how you get Cat to stare at you on the dance floor even though another hot lady in a tank top is sitting right next to her.

Sam warns Tess and Fin that the honeymoon phase ends before you know it, but Fin thinks she and Tess are going to live happily ever after. Just in time, she spots some of her football mates across the bar and invites them over. Tess and Cat head to the dance floor — not to dance; just to grumble.

Cat: They are a bit laddy locker-room, aren’t they? Not Fin. She’s great.
Tess: Yeah, I just… I wonder whether it matters that we’re both so different.

Cat doesn’t care about that; she’s worried about how well Frankie and Lexy seem to be getting along. Tess fuels those jealous flames by revealing that Frankie and Lexy already have a history. What would their couple name be, I wonder? Frexy? Lankie? Yeah, definitely Lankie. They go outside to have a smoke, where Frankie immediately confesses that she’s pining for someone.

Lexy: You know what they say. The best way to get over one girl is to get under another.

Do they say that? Maybe. But do you have to say it? I liked you better when you were making morbid/provocative jokes and flirting with Tess.

Ed, who’s also feeling pretty happy/corny, is noticing that various blokes are checking him out. Go for it, Ed! You didn’t specify how you wanted to get laid, exactly.

Meanwhile, Lexy clarifies that she’s not volunteering to be the girl that Frankie gets under. Because Lexy doesn’t “make the same mistake twice.”

Frankie: You’re right; I generally am a mistake.

Stop that. I know you’ve heard it three times already in this episode, but God doesn’t make mistakes. Ricky Martin said so, and I believe him because he was the only thing that got me through the current snooze of a revival of Evita on Broadway.

Lexy asks whether “the cop” is seeing Cat.

Frankie: Yeah, they’re together. Although, I wouldn’t let that put you off. Relationships are just things people do before they fuck someone else.

Whoa. That is too dark for me. Do you really believe that, Frankie? Or are you just trying to shock Lexy and/or prove you won’t be impressed by her bestiality and serial killer jokes?

On the dance floor, Jay and Tess and Ed are jumping and dancing and tripping (in Tess’s case, literally). I know this is required stuff for a bar scene, but it makes me happy anyway. Damn these likeable characters!

Over by the bar, Cat is moping. She thinks Lexy and Frankie have gone home together, so she grabs Sam and they leave. Way to bring down the evening, Cat.

Oh, but it gets worse when they get home.

Sam: I’m ready to hit the hay. I’m getting too old for partying on a school night.
Cat: Hang your towel up in the bathroom on the way, will ya?

She says this in a very vehement way.

I am a rather tidy person too, but I don’t think I’ve ever been quite that offended by a towel on the floor. And of course that’s not what’s really bothering Cat. Sam knows this, but she thinks Cat is still “stressing about that bloody pitch.” So she gives up and goes to bed.

Cat soon retires too, and apologizes for “being a harpy.”

Sam: You were, a bit. Quite a lovable one, though. You’ll be OK, you know? As my dad always says, good things happen to good people.

But she’s not… oh, never mind. Let’s just go to sleep.

Back at Rubies, Fin and her mates are still talking about football. A bored, frustrated Frankie identifies her next victim.

They go back to Frankie’s flat — insert one more herbal tea joke — and I have to turn on the captions to understand what Janice/Gwen Stefani is saying. I feel bad about this, and then I feel disappointed because Janice isn’t saying anything interesting.

Looks like Frankie is a little disappointed too. She just can’t get into this and sends Janice home.

Janice: Christ, one of these days, I’ll actually meet a lesbian who isn’t a total fuck-up.

I hope you do! And I hope she won’t mind if I turn on the captions for her too. I’m so ashamed.

With all that Cat-Sam-Frankie stuff threatening to level Rubies, I sorta failed to notice how drunk Tess was getting. The next morning isn’t kind.

Tess is scared to go to rehearsal, but Frankie assures her she deserves this chance and she’ll “nail it.” Frankie is a good friend. But she’s moping about the bills again, so they decide to ask Lexy to move in. Even though Tess is a little hesitant about the potential for more hookups.

Frankie: Tess, it was one fuck! I fuck a lot of people!

I am praying to Ricky Martin’s god right now that we don’t have an episode where they all talk about how many women they’ve slept with and who’s a “lone star” or a “gold star” and who’s going to start using the new Swedish pronoun. But I don’t think we will, because so far this show doesn’t seem interested in Very Special Episodes. I’m going to get my heart broken, aren’t I?

Frankie teases Tess about possibly being interested in Lexy herself, but Fin shows up just in time to end that particular line of questioning. I like fun little scenes like this one. Maybe someday someone will make a lesbian version of Three’s Company.

(Frankie is standing between two hanging globe lamps that I will henceforth think of as the Leia lamps.)

Nearby, Cat and Sam aren’t having as much fun. Sam’s co-worker is supposed to come over for dinner tonight, but Cat has forgotten all about it. Maybe she told you about it 17 months ago?

Cat recovers nicely and is sweet to Sam. I wish she weren’t pretending.

Tess is nervous about rehearsal, and Fin isn’t helping much. She tries to cheer Tess up with kisses and lovin’, but it’s not what Tess needs right now. Tess mopes out the door, intent on being early to rehearsal.

And she is indeed early. Early enough to curl up on a Chekhovian couch and go to sleep.

By the time the other actors arrive, Tess is slumbering soundly. The director wakes her up, but the damage has been done: the other actors think she’s a drunk. This is mostly because she has a bunch of little bottles sitting on the couch next to her; she got them for free at the club last night. She tries to explain this, but it’s not the sort of thing you can explain. “No, I swear I’m not a terrorist. They were giving away these packets of C-4 at the Army surplus.”

One of the other actors — I’ll bet he’s playing the jolly/conflicted doctor in Vanya — reveals that he always “likes a little tipple” before rehearsal and carries a flask for just that reason. Tess starts to protest, but knows a kind soul when she sees one.

Are we going to get to see the actual rehearsals? My favorite show of all time (or maybe tied with Mad Men) is Slings and Arrows. Can this be the lesbian Slings and Arrows AND the lesbian Three’s Company?!

But it might be more like Smash, because Nora, the actress playing (I assume) Elena, is a lot like Ivy Lynn in attitude and appearance. Terrific.

Everyone introduces themselves, but Tess doesn’t have much to say about her past roles. She ends up telling them that she played a corpse on The Bill.

Her new friend comes to her rescue, but that Nora is definitely going to be trouble. Will this play be more like Chekhov or more like God of Carnage?

Tess goes home, hoping for a little quiet and relaxation. But Fin’s football mates are on their way over. Great first day of rehearsal, right, Tess?

At at her own workplace, all Cat wants to know is whether Frankie and Lexy went home together last night.

Jay: I thought you were happy with Sam.
Cat: I am happy. She’s beautiful and kind and I don’t want to lose her.

As Buffy would say, “you’ve got ‘but’ face.” But? BUT WHAT, CAT???

Jay reminds Cat that Frankie isn’t “the most reliable,” and Cat knows he’s right. But something in her begoniaed brain seems to have gone right past right and wrong and into “why not?”

And at her flat, with no job to distract her, Frankie lies around and broods about Cat. She is fondling a postcard that Cat sent her way back in 2007 (when they were presumably a couple). The postcard has a picture of Sid James on it.

Because she’s a romantic and a ruiner, Frankie scribbles a message on the postcard (“Dear Babs, let’s carry on”) and has it messengered over to Cat at her office. The resultant sweet smile on Cat’s face upsets me way more than a sloppy towel on the bathroom floor ever could.

Cat’s emotions are already all over the place, so why don’t we stir them up a bit more? Alistair, the boss, strolls up to tell Cat and Jay that their hash-hazed pitch was actually successful. However, Cat doesn’t get to manage the account; it’s all Jay’s.

Cat, when are you going to sue your stupid boss? She tells Jay she’s the victim of discrimination, but then she just gets angry and throws some files down and says she doesn’t give a shit anymore.

She does give a shit about one thing, though. So, moth-like, she goes right to her flame. She and Frankie meet somewhere cloudy for a drink.

Cat: I can’t leave Sam.
Frankie: Yeah, you told me that yesterday.

Cat says “oh, right” and goes home to Sam. I WISH. No, this is what happens:

Cat: We could still see each other.
Frankie: (blinking in disbelief)
Cat: If you want me, this is the way you can have me till I’ve worked out what to do.
Frankie: So… I’m supposed to sit on the sidelines while you continue to fuck your wife.

Words like “stupid” and “ludicrous” and “laughable” are not at all sufficient. Somewhere deep down, both Frankie and Cat agree with me. But it doesn’t stop them.

They are actually in a back alley or parking garage or something. Just to drive home the seediness of it all. And there’s an equally unsubtle moment when Frankie encounters Cat’s necklace (the one Sam gave her) and Cat says, “Oh, fuck that. Just fuck me.”

I’m sorry, Team Frankie people, but I’m still confused! I do see more chemistry between them this season, but this is a terrible idea for everyone involved and it’s all going to end in tears. Mostly mine.

Sam is home. Making dinner for her dinner guests. Waiting. I’m starting to think Cat doesn’t deserve you, Sam. Maybe I’ll switch to Team Lexy!

Cat finally comes home, looking guilty and heading for the bathroom to “freshen up” (i.e., de-Frankify herself). She proceeds to drink her way through dinner and then throw it all right back up again. What a charming host you are, Cat.

Sam tries to understand and blames it all on a tough day at work. But she should worry about that look on Cat’s face.

But Sam just says “I know” and holds her tight. Is it still 4/20? Because now I’m the one who needs to get off my face, in order to get over this episode.

And yet I’m sooooo glad this show is back!

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