I've assessed the situation, and I'm leaving

In the fourth episode of Mad Men, "New Amsterdam," Pete can't decide who he hates more, his wife or his boss, and Betty goes over to Helen's house and it's like an old school horror movie.

Previously: Pete tried, unsuccessfully to suck up to Don; Helen Bishop, divorced mother of two, moved in down the street from Don and Betty; Don kissed Rachel Menken on the roof of her department store; and Pete slept with Peggy two days before his wedding but afterwards they agreed not to discuss it.

Sterling Cooper offices: the Mad Boys are gathered in Pete’s office listening to a comedy record. I can’t tell who is it, but I know it’s not Lenny Bruce because Paul says, “He’s no Lenny Bruce.” They’re interrupted by Pete’s wife, Trudie, who dropped by to steal her husband away for a lunch date. Pete’s a little reluctant to leave work, but caves when she forces him to admit he doesn’t have anything going on today. As Pete gets his coat, Don and Peggy walk by. Pete introduces his boss to his wife, and shares an awkward look with Peggy. Betty sizes up the competition and decides she could totally take this society brat; Peggy’s from Brooklyn, got it? Don congratulates Trudie on being “lucky” to marry Pete, and she says, “I know! Most of my friends can’t find a good man!” Well, if “good man” means “total psychopath,” then maybe your friends are the lucky ones. After a few moments Peggy gives a little wave to Trudie and goes on her way without being formally introduced (because Pete has no manners in addition to being a cheater). Don tells Trudie that Pete is “essential to the process around her; I think we’re almost as happy to have him as you are.” Don takes his leave, and Trudie remarks on how nice he is, and “not at all like I imagined.”

Old New York-y jazz plays as we join Trudie and Pete in an empty apartment. She is raving about the space and decent price, but Pete tells her that although he wants to give her everything, with his salary they can’t afford it. Trudie tells him, “We’re not in this alone. We’re a young couple who needs help…” In just two scenes you can tell that Trudie’s one of those upper class Manhattan girls who’s never, ever wanted anything that wasn’t immediately given to her by her parents. Hate her!

Back at the office, Don runs into Paul (if this is the same day then he’s changed out of the signature Grandpa cardigan he was wearing earlier and into a suit) walking with Rachel Menken in the hallway. She’s wearing an all-black suit skirt that would be appropriate for a state funeral, but she’s also rocking a rather large turban on her head. Rachel tells Don that Paul is perfect for her account, and Paul senses the sex-gone-bad vibe and excuses himself. All of their previous snappy charm is gone as he awkwardly asks how she is and she asks, “What are you doing?” He tells her, “I don’t want it to be like this,” and she says, “Yes, well, we both know how we’d like it to be.” He asks if they can have lunch sometime, because he’s sure that if he acts really sincere he’ll eventually convince her to become his mistress. But Rachel’s too smart, and walks away.

At the Draper’s, Betty reads a bedtime story to her kids, which ends with a grand wedding. Sally is so freaking cute. Bobby is ok. I saw on imdb that 3 different actors are credited for Robert Draper, and I don’t think any of them are twins. Kind of odd, right? Also, Betty makes her kids go to bed before it’s dark outside, which is just mean. She leaves them alone to go walk the new Golden Retriever dog, which takes her right past Helen Bishop’s house. On the porch is a man, pounding the door and yelling for her to open up. He sees Betty and asks to use her phone, explaining, “I’m her husband. I’m supposed to see my kids and I know she’s in there.” Betty shows an unprecedented awareness of basic safety when she tells him no, she doesn’t let strange men into her home. Helen’s evil ex is dumbfounded, and Betty leaves quickly, probably glad to have a dog with her.

Later that night, the doorbell rings and Betty answers, wearing this great floaty nightie and robe. She looks great, but won’t it get totally twisted around her body when she sleeps? Sometimes I spend a lot of time thinking about how uncomfortable old-fashioned sleepwear must have been. Anyway, at the door is Helen Bishop, who apologizes and says, “I’m so embarrassed.” Helen pretends she doesn’t know what Helen’s talking about, because in her world these things are ignored, not discussed. Helen calls her on it, and admits that she was listening at the window. She says that she did let her ex-husband in eventually, and that “he’s not a bad man.” There’s a pause as Helen looks at the floor, and Betty finally asks her to come in and have some coffee.

The two women are smoking on the couch as Helen observes it’s ironic that her husband wants to see the kids all the time now, while when they were married he was always at work. She adds, “but if he does die then I’m set!” Now that’s classy. Although I will admit that yesterday I was thinking about whether, if my parents died, I’d be rich from the life insurance and selling the house and everything, or poor from having no clue about practical finances. But, you know, I felt bad afterwards. Betty asks what happened, and Helen explains: her husband worked in Manhattan, and “he had a lot of friends in the city… turned out none of them were men.” It’s hard to tell whether this is hitting as close to home as it should for Betty. Betty clarifies that she meant, “tonight, what happened?” Helen doesn’t answer, but observes that her husband is madder than she is, probably because her lawyer “hammered the hell out of him.” Betty is, as always, uncomfortable talking about such indelicate things, and tells Helen she’s always loved her house. There’s the sound of a door opening in the background, and Don enters. He says hello to both women, and looks a little peeved at the girltalk going on in his living room. After he leaves, Betty explains, “he has to go upstairs and have complete quiet for a while. He works so hard.” Or maybe he just really dislikes talking to you, Betty.

Elsewhere, Pete is in a living room where all the furniture is covered with white sheets. It’s his parents house—do they live in an abandoned building or do they just want to be able to make ghost costumes at a moment’s notice? Pete stares into his drink as his dad makes small talk and displays a disturbing amount of leg below his plaid short-shorts. I swear, I cannot stop staring at Pete’s dad’s thighs! But I should be respectful, since I read that this actor died sometime recently in an avalanche (seriously). Pete’s mom enters and says she hopes that Pete and Trudie will be visiting them at their summer home, but Pete says he’s not sure if he’ll be able to take the time off work. Mr. Campbell starts rambling that he still doesn’t understand what Pete does, how he can call going to restaurants and clubs working: “taking people out to dinner; wining and whoring. No job for a white man.” Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s appropriate for any man to be showing that much thigh. Also, will there ever be a TV character who is NOT revealed to have had a bad dad that is the source of all his issues and flaws? Pete tries to convince his dad that there’s more to advertising than that, but Papa Campbell doesn’t buy it. Pete says, sounding a little self-satisfied, that he can’t explain how business works to his dad, the subtext being, I assume, that his dad did nothing but live off his family’s old money.

Pete changes the subject to the apartment Trudie showed him earlier, and it’s on 83rd and Park if you want to go visit. Pete says that it’s kind of expensive, and “we’re going to need help with the down payment.” His tone basically states that he fully expects a handout from his parents, and that he’s perfectly right to ask. Papa Short Shorts flat out refuses, saying it’s not a good idea. Pete says, “You thought it was a good idea when Bud hit that girl on her bike in Montauk last summer. What did that cost?” Heh! For some reason that totally reminds me of Ted Kennedy driving his car off a bridge, which I also find funnier than I probably should. If it turns out that Pete has a sister who the family accidentally lobotomized, I will never stop laughing. Mama Campbell looks upset and walks off, and Mr. Thigh says, “I presume it’s your profession that is responsible for this lapse in your manners.” Pete says that he’ll pay the money back, and when that doesn’t help he asks, “why is it so hard for you people to give me anything?” Legs Campbell says, “We gave you everything. We gave you your name. And what have you done with it?” Eh, Campbell’s not such a great name, unless their family is heir to the Campbell Soup fortune. One thing I really appreciate about Gossip Girl is how realistic the rich people last names are: Archibald, Waldorf, Van der Woodsen? Those are primo rich people last names.

Later that night, Pete is undressing in his very small bedroom. Trudie enters (wearing frilly bloomers!), and asks about his visit to his parents. He lies that he didn’t bring up the expensive apartment because his dad’s been “having some health problems.” Trudie asks what’s wrong, and Pete replies that “nobody knows,” while his look says, “Well, I’m about to murder him in his sleep, so he’s probably stressed out about what a psychopath he raised.”

The next day, Pete brings a client, Walter, into a meeting with Don and Salvatore. He’s the owner of a steel company, and Don’s pitch is that the America’s great cities are “brought to you by Bethlehem Steel.” Walter thinks the style of the ads are too plain. Aw, no love for Salvatore? He says that “these ads feel like ads for cities. You’re making our company look like a middleman for another product.” Don gets a little pissy about the dismissal of his ideas, but Pete is on Walter’s side. “Walter, if this does not meet your expectations, I’m sure Don can find something that does.” He asks Walter to stay in town another night, maybe see a Broadway show like Bye Bye Birdie (confession: senior year of high school I was telephone girl #3 in my school’s production of Bye Bye Birdie, and I was totally awesome). Walter says, “I don’t like birds,” but agrees to come back.

Don suggests Salvatore walk Walter out (these guys are really into walking people out; are the Sterling Cooper offices especially maze-like?) so he can lay the smackdown on Pete. Pete says he could sense that Walter was a “second time guy,” but Don thinks that Walter was sentences away from approving the ads. I have to disagree, Don. Don blames Pete for not “preparing” Walter to like the idea, and Pete apologizes for not “lowering his expectations enough.” Don tells Pete to do his client-schmoozing thing and “leave the ideas to me,” and Pete very prissily states, “I have ideas.” Yeah, but Sterling Cooper’s clients probably don’t need Pete’s ideas on how to become as close as physically possible to becoming a weasel. Unless, of course, someone’s selling weasel food. Don says, “I’m sure you do. Sterling Cooper has more failed artists and intellectuals than the Third Reich.” Oh yeah, Don just played the Nazi card! Pete tells him his ideas are good, and “direct marketing! I thought of that! Turned out it already existed, but I arrived at it independently.” Uh, that might not be the best example to plead your case. “And then I come to this place and you tell me that I’m good with people, which is strange, because I never heard that before.” Even Pete knows he’s a dick.

At the Draper’s, Don is lying on the couch looking at the ad designs that Walter dismissed, and Betty is making dinner when the phone rings. It’s Helen Bishop, and she wants to go help stuff envelopes for Kennedy tonight but her sitter backed out. Helen is preparing powdered milk, for some reason… gross. Betty is hesitant, but finally agrees to come over and that, “I guess Don can watch the kids.” She seems a little scared that Don’s going to run off and buy another dog as soon as she turns her back, and I don’t blame her.

Betty arrives at Helen’s, and the latter apologizes for the mess and the former says, “It’s charming.” Betty’s not such a good liar. I expect her to whip out a sketch pad so when she meets up with Francine to gossip they have more to criticize. Creepy Glen Munster is at the piano, playing poorly. I read that the actor playing Glen is actually the son of one of the main producers, which is good for him since unless they do a Munsters: The Next Generation movie, I don’t see him working much after this show. Helen tells Glen to be good for Betty, and “no ironing.” Apparently Glen loves to iron. Creepy! And now we know for certain that Glen is a freakshow, because he’s not conforming to gender norms.

As Helen gets ready to leave, Betty tells her she looks nice, and “there must be a lot of nice men there.” Helen says that it’s mostly women, because “have you seen the candidate?” Betty’s like, “Have you seen my husband? Kennedy and his lock-jaw can’t compete with Don.” Well, she actually says that while JFK is handsome, “we’re not sure who we’re voting for.” In other words, Don hasn’t told her who she’s voting for yet. Helen takes off, and Glen plots all the different ways he’s going to distract Betty so he can suck her blood.

Pete is having dinner with Trudie and her parents at a fancy restaurant. Trudie’s dad is going on about what a sweet job Pete must have, and Pete says the same thing he said to his dad earlier, that there’s “slightly more to it than that.” But since Trudie’s dad is wearing full length pants, Pete says it with a smile. Trudie brings up the apartment, and Pete tries to get her to drop it by saying that it’s still out of their price range. Trudie isn’t giving up and starts giving the specs on the place (ooh, it has a terrace!) to her parents. When she tells them the price her father frowns and says, “I don’t know... I’ll have to look into it.” Trudie looks shocked at him not immediately writing a check for $30,000, but then her dad starts laughing and Trudie thanks him for continuing to cater to her every whim. Pete’s less pleased, and says, “Tom, it’s very generous for you to even consider it, but I think we’d rather wait.” Trudie’s like, “How about you wait and I live there alone until you’re ready?” Trudie’s dad tells him there’s no point in waiting, and that’ll he’ll be “a rich bastard” on his own someday. He explains that it’s an “investment for me, in you. Oh, and my jellybean, too, of course.” Jellybean? Vomit. Trudie gives Pete the most insufferable look (guys, I hate her so much I want to push her off a terrace), and Pete finally agrees. Trudie’s thrilled to have fully squashed her husband’s pride in order to get a bomb apartment.

Later, in the back seat of a cab (or a chauffeured car or something), Trudie’s like, “We should get married,” and Pete’s turns off his Walkman playing the new George Michael and is all, “No, I can’t take the time off work,” and she says, “You hate that job anyway. Why don’t you just quit?” and he says, “Because I…want…to…fit…in.” Ok, well actually Trudie just gloats about the apartment some more, then realizes Pete’s not exactly thrilled to be taking handouts from his wife’s parents. His own parents, though, that’s cool. He tells her that it’s a lot of money, and “I’m not sure what it means.” Is he going to have to go to work for Trudie’s dad as a hitman, like Jin on Lost? Because I think, subconsciously, the reason I can’t stop connecting American Psycho to this show is because there’s way less blood than I think there should be. There’s emotional violence aplenty, but where are the chainsaws? Pete explains that if he had gotten money from his parents it would be different, since, “it’s my money, I’ll get it eventually.” Trudie counters that this is her money, and it makes her father feel good to help. Pete looks at her for the first time this entire scene to ask, “What about me?” She flips it back: “What about meeee?” I do have to concede that their bedroom was pretty tiny and shabby-looking. Pete looks away from her again and says bitterly, “You always get what you want, don’t you?” Yes! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!

Back at Helen’s Divorcee Den, Betty and Glen are watching tv, sitting as far away from each other as possible on the couch. She excuses herself to use the bathroom, which means high level snooping. Anyone who says they’ve never been tempted to rifle through someone else’s medicine cabinet is a liar. Betty hits the jackpot when she finds Helen’s birth control pills, but she drops it quickly and closes the drawer. No, Betty, you have to see how many are left so you can calculate her cycle and then sic a bear on her! Betty sits down on the toilet but is quickly interrupted by Glen the Creeper. She tells him twice to get out, but he just stands there watching her pee. Finally she has to get up and waddle to the door, closing it as she says, “What is wrong with you? This room is occupied!” Glen’s like, “Hey, I’m a child of divorce. Give me a break.”

Glen’s back on the couch when Betty comes out of the bathroom. She turns off the TV and says, “What do you have to say for yourself?” He says nothing—had he had any lines so far this episode? Betty grabs his arm and tells him, “You know better than to walk in on someone like that. That room is private.” She eventually convinces him to apologize (Glen speaks!), and after she forgives him Glen launches towards her neck, fangs bared. No, wait, false alarm, Glen just goes and hugs her, but in a creepy, “How close can I get my head to your boob?” way. He tells her she’s pretty, and asks how old she is. Betty asks, “Well, I’m the same age as your mother. How old is your mother?” Real sneaky, Betty. After learning that Helen is 32, Betty practically pumps her fist in the air and then does a victory lap around the room, because she’s only 28.

Glen keeps hitting on Betty, and says, “Your hair is so beautiful. You look like a princess.” Betty demurs, and Glen asks, “Can I have some?” He’s totally staring at her boobs when it says it, and I swear the first time I watched this episode I thought he wanted her to breastfeed him. It’s only slightly less creepy, though, that what he really wants is a lock of her hair. She says no at first, but it doesn’t take too much more convincing from Glen for her to find a pair of scissors and cut a little piece from the back of her neck. Ew, Betty, no! I know she feels bad for creepy Glen, with his slutty mother and absentee dad, but she is totally encouraging his lack of boundary issues! Plus, you know that bit of hair is going to become the centerpiece of Glen’s Betty shrine, and his fixation on her will be all over the news when Glen finally explodes the neighborhood cat or something. But I should get off my high horse because one time, in high school, this girl in my drama class went around and convinced everyone to let her cut off a little bit of their hair, and she collected it all in an empty butter container. I refused at first, but everyone else gave her a few strands, so I caved. And then afterwards I looked at the clump of various people’s hair that she had collected and mixed together, and it looked like the hairball you pull out of the shower drain, and I felt pretty gross about myself.

At a bar in Manhattan, Pete brings two fancy ladies (escorts?) over to hang out with him, Walter, and Draco Malfoy. Walter is happy to stare at the blonde’s chest for the whole night, but Pete wants to share his ideas about the steel campaign. His slogan is “Bethlehem Steel: the backbone of America.” Walter thinks that Pete is making a pitch for Don, and tells Pete he doesn’t want to discuss business when there are young girls to molest and buy drinks for.

Betty is sitting on the couch reading about Italy (remember when she said she spent the summer there after graduating from college?) when Helen comes home. Betty doesn’t mention the bathroom trespass or the hair cutting, and accepts a pamphlet on Kennedy, who looks kind of deformed in the picture on the front.

When she goes home, Don is asleep with a notepad resting on his stomach. Betty takes it look at the rough drawing of an ad that reads “New York: Oh Little Town of Bethlehem.” The image fades out, and is replaced by Salvatore’s professional artwork in the office the next day. Walter remains unimpressed (and it is basically the exact same thing with slightly different words), and Don tries to convince him that it gets across the idea that “from the acorn that is Bethlehem Steel comes American’s great cities.” What a poet, Don is. Walter thinks that this pitch is just a front for the “backbone of American” slogan, and says, “Campbell pitched it to me last night, and I like it.” Don and Salvatore exchange looks that read, “Oh, we are going to have a cut a bitch.” Walter says he not only likes the idea, but also likes that Don was “so enthusiastic about the idea you couldn’t wait to tell me.” I think it’s telling that despite all the evidence, Walter still thinks it’s Don’s idea because it’s so out of line for a junior exec (I think Pete is an account manager or something?) to pitch an idea of his own. As Walter says this, Pete looks down and tries not to gloat too hard.

The meeting ends and Walter exits, leaving Pete to face his boss. Don tells him “nice work,” and to enjoy his good idea. Pete doesn’t know when to turn tail and run, and tells Don, “I think I did something good and you got the compliment for it.” Don looks hard as steel as he tells Pete, “I need you to go get a cardboard box… and go put your things in it.” Don walks out, and Salvatore gets his bitch on: “You picked the wrong time to buy an apartment.”

Pete walks through the office looking ready to either puke or start throwing grenades. The Mad Boys are in his office again listening to the comedy record; he screams at them to get out, then throws the Bob Newhart record out the door after them. In Slattery’s office, Don storms in and says, “Remember Pete Campbell’s last day? It’s today.” Don recaps the last 20 minutes and Slattery agrees he’s a “little shit.” I agree, too. Back in Pete’s office, the drinking portion of his pity party has begun. And the crying!

Betty’s on the therapist’s couch again, and is discussing Helen and her single mother life: her little job, her frozen food, her deranged son. Betty says, “She tries to put on a brave face. Honestly, I think she’s jealous of me; I’ve seen it before, I was in a sorority.” Can I just tell you all to start watching Greek? I know, it’s a stupid little show on ABC Family, but it’s also sort of totally awesome. There’s a marathon of the second season on all day tomorrow (Monday the 23rd), plus you can get the pilot and the first season finale for free on iTunes, and the second season premieres tomorrow night. Back to Betty, she’s all “I'm sorry that people are so jealous of me... but I can't help it that I'm so popular.” She also thinks that Glen is the one who needs help, and “the person taking care of him isn’t giving him what he needs.” A stake to the heart?

At Sterling Cooper, Slattery and Don prepare to go into Cooper’s office by taking off their shoes. Apparently this is due to Cooper having a big Asian thing, as evidenced by the art all over his office. Slattery notices a picture of a little boy in a sailor suit sitting on an older man’s lap; apparently it’s an old photo of Slattery and Cooper. Are they related? Maybe Slattery is Cooper’s nephew? Anyway, Slattery tells Cooper that Pete Campbell is fired and “it can’t be avoided.” Cooper disagrees, and starts in on a long-winded analogy comparing New York to a tightly wound watch. He pauses and asks what Don knows about Pete’s family. He says, “Nothing, except that they put out a mediocre product.” Don probably hates Campbell soup because he didn’t get enough love as a child. Cooper explains that Pete’s mother is a Dykeman, the family that owned a good part of Manhattan. When I saw this part and remembered the title I realized, Pete’s family are Knickerbockers! Cooper continues that the Dykeman’s lost most of their money in the Great Depression, but he still doesn’t want “Dorothy Dykeman Campbell standing at the dock at Fisher’s Island this summer talking about how poorly Sterling Cooper treated her son.” If these people met her son, they might not be so easily influenced. Bottom line is that Pete provides access to all these high-society people and places, so it’s a “marquee issue.” Don pouts that it seems like Pete is worth more to the company than he is, so Cooper and Slattery start rubbing his back and murmuring soothing compliments. Don acquiesces to Cooper’s wishes, and Cooper stands up and says, “there you go! I’m glad we’re all better now,” like he just gave Don a shot but since he was a good boy he also gets a lollipop. There’s nothing like being condescended to by a man without shoes.

Pete’s lying on his couch, his things in a box at his feet. I’m a little disappointed he’s not in the fetal position on the floor under his desk, to be honest. Don and Slattery storm in, and Slattery gets with the speechgiving: “What you did was totally unacceptable, and I want you to be very clear about this. You were fired, I wanted you out, Cooper wanted you out, and you would be if it weren’t for [Don].” Oh, Slattery, well played. “He thought you deserved another chance. That’s right, he fought for you.” Don looks a little uncomfortable at this, and Pete is practically licking Don’s shoes in gratitude. Slattery finishes, “You are here because of Don Draper’s largesse. Now, I know that your generation went to college instead of serving so I’ll illuminate you: this man is your commanding officer. You live, and die, in his shadow. Understood?” Interesting to compare this to Pete telling Don in the first episode that he’s follow him into battle blindfolded, and Don knowing it was bullshit and blowing him off. Pete looks about ready to start saluting and tells Don, “I won’t let you down.” Slattery, who’s halfway out the door, stops and says, “Jesus, Campbell, don’t ever say that!” The Mad Men leave, and Pete sinks back onto the couch looking like a little boy in someone else’s suit.

Don and Slattery are boozing it up in Don’s office, as they do. Slattery remarks that being able to drink on the job probably “attracts more people to advertising than any salary.” Don says, “that’s why I got in.” Slattery notices, though, that Don doesn’t enjoy drinking. He tells him, “My generation, we drank because it’s good, because it feels better than unbuttoning your color, because we deserve it. You drink because it’s what men do.” Don brings up shaky hands due to alcoholism, and Slattery says, “no kidding. Your kind with your gloomy thoughts and your worries, you’re all busy licking some imaginary wound.” Don tells him that they’re not all imaginary, and Slattery downs the rest of his drink and says, “boo hoo.” Don tells him, “Maybe I’m not as comfortable with being powerless as you are.” Slattery’s like, what the hell does that mean? He tells Don, “You shouldn’t compete with Pete Campbell… Yeah, you are. Not on a personal level, but for the world.” Don looks thoughtful, and Slattery says, “I don’t know, maybe every generation thinks the next one is the end of it all. I bet there are people in the Bible, walking around complaining about ‘kids today.’” Don adds, “Kids today, they have no one to look up to. Because they’re looking up to us.” I think Don and Slattery’s point would be much more effectively conveyed by a rousing encore of the “What’s the Matter with Kids Today?” from Bye Bye Birdie.

Trudie is back in the apartment, discussing with the realtor things to do with the back room. Pete is walking around the background, looking not unhappy with their future home. Soon a neighbor enters, a stereotypically Old New York society lady wearing multiple strands of pearls, and behind her are Trudie’s parents. Everyone introduces him or herself, and Old NY lady asks Pete, “You mother-in-law was telling me that your great, great grandfather was a farmer with Isaac Roosevelt, is that right?” Don’t ask me who Isaac Roosevelt is, and why someone would be impressed with his farming, and why this is a the first thing you would want to ask a person you just met. Pete confirms it, and the women get all in a tizzy about Pete’s ancestor being buried at some church and a “Dykeman living in the building.” Trudie wants Pete to tell the story about his “great, great-aunt getting in a fight with the British soldier and the Hussein,” but Pete tells her to tell it for him. Oh, to be rich enough to be ambivalent about being part of an important family. Boo hoo. Pete walks to the opposite side of the room, and Rosemary Clooney (I think) starts singing as he looks with resentment at his wife holding court. He then looks out the window at his amazing view of Manhattan, all black and silver at night. And then he jumps out the window!

Just kidding.