Way to ensure you never work in this town again, sport.

Remember last season when Duck promised Pete Campbell would become Head of Accounts? He gets the promotion, but so does Ken Cosgrove. They get to *share* the job.

Of course, Pete is overjoyed that his buddy is working with him instead of against him, and they go traipsing toward Lollipop Lane together, singing a happy song about working together and friendship. At least, that's what they would have done if the Commies had won.

This competition thing is really trendy at the agency right now, as Joan must contend with the assistant to the new leadership at SC, a snobby young British man who thinks he's out of the secretaries' league. Naturally, Joan is having none of his uppity bullshit. She coolly tosses him into a swank office, reasoning, "We should have an office for visitors, and it makes sense to have you sit in there when it's not occupied." He recites this thinking verbatim to his boss, who dismisses it as "harebrained."

The assistant observes that this is a "Joanocracy." I am glad he's realizing that now and not later, when it could really be hazardous to his physical health. I mean, I have no idea what Joan is capable of, but I wouldn't really want to find out. She's like the busty version of those clean-suited Samuri warriors that just stand in the middle of a fight waiting…
watching…ready to pounce. Brr. Need a refill to soothe my nerves.

Meanwhile, Don and the newly-married, still closeted Sal head to Baltimore to repair the relationship between their agency and the London Fog client after the most recent layoff [Side note: how can you be called London Fog and be based in Baltimore?]. They meet a stewardess who invites them to dinner, and, as is Don’s MO, he creates new identities for himself and Sal, telling the woman and her friend that they're (of all the ridiculous lines to throw at a woman) accountants for Jimmy fucking Hoffa. Don beds the stewardess; Sal heads back to his room alone.

It's a hot night and Sal's AC isn't working, so he calls up the bell boy to fix it. The bell boy fixes the AC but also picks up a strong gaydar signal so he decides to find the source of that as well. Which is, of course, underneath Sal's impeccable, stylish wardrobe. Unfortunately for Sal, there's a fire at the hotel and all hanky-panky is interrupted (I wonder if you can get comped for that?). Don knocks on Sal's window from the fire escape to tell him to get out of the building, and sees the whole deal. Sal is sure that his cover is blown (no pun intended).

On the flight back after the client meeting, Don leans in and asks Sal, "Can I ask you something and will you be completely honest with me?" Sal braces for the gay inquisition, but Don just wants to talk shop. Sal has no idea how many secrets Don holds, and that Don is too busy keeping up with his own lies to worry about Sal's little indiscretion. And when you think about it, Don's indiscretions, even by 1963 standards, are way more interesting. S&M sessions with a celebrity's wife? A love affair with the client's daughter? Random, drug-induced hookups? Draper's got issues and I want a subscription.

But, until next Sunday, I have to tide myself over with reruns. And booze.

Miz J, who works in advertising, is a regular contributor and resident expert on all things Mad Men at Crabby Golightly. Check out her blog at Miz J