The theme for this week’s episode of How I Met Your Mother is observation. How do we perceive ourselves, and how do we display these selves for the sake of others? True, while How I Met Your Mother is consistently about how Future Narrator Ted displays himself , tonight specifically is about the self-conscious tendencies that arise from skewing and attempting to skew the perspective.
We begin in a college bar, a change in pace from the usual MacLaren’s Tavern. Marshall has invited the group (sans Lily) for two reasons: First, to defend his Skee Ball high score, and second, to introduce his friends to “Jenkins,” a mysterious new co-worker whom Marshall has been hyping with stories of grandeur. Jenkins, which I believe is the mandatory television surname for random coworkers, is the subject of much hesitation for Marshall. While he appreciates Jenkins’ crazy antics, such as downing a jar of maraschino cherries on a bet, making lewd gestures behind a client’s back, and getting drunk and dancing on a table after hours, Marshall goes out of his way to avoid introducing Jenkins to his wife.
For, you see, Jenkins is not an obese frat boy man-child the group initially imagined. Jenkins is actually a hot girl. Even though Marshall is proud to show off someone of her caliber to his friends, he’s apprehensive about revealing a hot girl with a history of cherry-eating, lewd gesturing and table dancing as a coworker to his wife. Jenkins is played by Amanda Peet, looking like a cross between Julia Roberts and Hilary Swank.
To Marshall’s surprise, Lily has no problem with Jenkins. However, Marshall chooses the staple sitcom husband reaction; reading too much into things. Marshall cannot believe Lily has no reaction to Jenkins, and is befuddled as to why. The explanation, as proffered by Robin and Ted, is that every relationship has both a Reacher and a Settler. Marshall is the Reacher, who strives, strains and ultimately attains a romantic partner well beyond his means. Lily is the Settler, who sacrifices her potential for someone below her means, assured her partner will never dare cheat lest he lose the best thing to ever happen to him.
Unhappy with his Reacher status, believing it to be the Sad Sack side of the relationship, Marshall sets out to make Lily jealous. If Marshall can make Lily jealous, it would dispel the Reacher/Settler theory, and by proving he is capable of cheating, he can stand confident that… well, he can stand confident. It’s what matters to him; it doesn’t have to make sense. Marshall formulates a conniving plan to make Lily think Jenkins is lusting after him. As he attempts to hornswaggle Jenkins into his clever ruse, much to Marshall’s surprise, Jenkins affectionately grabs Marshall by the neck and kisses him. Somewhere off camera, Barney is assuredly jealous.
In tonight’s subplot, Robin discovers enthusiastically that the college-age demographic is surprisingly fond of her early-early-morning newscast. At the unnamed college bar, a student, who in a landmark genetics experiment had his DNA spliced with Chris Farley’s, recognizes her. Reveling in her newfound fame, Robin unceremoniously drops in on Ted’s lectures in an attempt to have her ego stroked. Much to his delight, Ted discovers Robin isn’t an engaging journalist, Robin’s early-early-morning show coincides with the average college student’s drinking hours and she is the subject of a drinking game. A plethora of collegiate boozehounds celebrate her unique syntax, joyfully downing a shot every time she interjects with the speech filler “…But, um…”
Eager to see the big-headed Robin brought back to Earth, Ted tests the drinking game with Barney. Before the end credits roll, the pair downs an entire fifth of vodka. Comically hyperbolic drunkenness and hangovers ensue. When Robin gets wind of the game, she gets self-conscious. In an attempt to perform an interview without using the phrase “But, um,” Robin stumbles, backtracks, and scares the interviewee right off the set. Angry she is the subject of such ridicule, Robin unleashes justice. She intentionally rattles off dozens of “But, ums” in short sequence, dedicated lovingly to every watching college student.
As Ted watches gloomily, he is resigned to his fate. As he willfully participated in the drinking game, he and every other bar patron must abide by the rules: one shot for every “But, um.” Not since Oliver Stone’s Platoon has Barber’s Adagio For Strings been used so effectively. The following morning, as Ted and his class experience the hangover of all hangovers, he sympathetically announces today’s lecture consists of sitting very quietly. Victorious, Robin returns to Ted’s lecture hall, siren in hand.
To cap the main plotline, Lily confronts Jenkins about her ill-placed affection towards Marshall. As Jenkins attempts to explain the situation and apologize, Lily subtly removes her scarf and earrings. Lily nods, smiles and seemingly accepts throughout the apology. And then, out of nowhere, Lily slugs Jenkins in the mouth, beginning a wrath-filled, fiery-eyed catfight. Marshall, surprised at Lily’s reaction, is flattered his wife would shed blood for him, despite her Settler status. Barney, also surprised by Lily’s reaction, whips out a camera-phone, and pushes Marshall aside for a clear shot.
In the end, how we see ourselves is more important than how others see us. Marshall sees himself as a Reacher, but comfortable as part of a greater whole. Lily sees herself as a Settler, loving, loyal, and if necessary, territorial. Robin sees herself as influential, both as a newscaster and her ability to cause migraines at the slightest whim. Ted sees himself as a likable professor, even if his students confuse him with their Economics professor. And Barney, while scarce tonight, sees himself as always: awesome. Sometimes it takes the vomit-tainted atmosphere of a college bar to learn life lessons, and for Marshall “Big Fudge” Eriksen, King of Skee Ball, that lesson shall never be forgotten.
