In which it's February and I'm writing about Christmas. This was like the least fun thing ever. And that includes the time I was hit by a car and left for dead by the side of the rode and then mauled by a pack of rabid coyotes. And none of that ever happened but I'm pretty sure it would be a more enjoyable experience than anything having to do with this episode.
If we're lucky, maybe we'll have a white Christmas."
Steve calls the idea "kind of neat," and then Girl can't beat it the fuck away from him fast enough, lying, "It was fun traveling with you," and then confirming our theory that Steve is a self-absorbed garbage person, when, after he thanks her for listening to him, says, "What else was I gonna do for 16 hours?" They have a laugh over that one, although I'm assuming her laughter was a means of covering up her tears, she wishes him good luck on finding his bio-mom, then sees her mom and thanks her lucky stars that any interaction with this wool-headed douche is over. Peace out Mexican-Maybe-Some-Kind-Of-Native-American Girl. We really hardly knew ye.
So as this really, really terrible, like, diarrhea-heavy version of "O Little Town of Bethlehem" starts playing in the background, Steve flings his bag over his shoulder and starts hoofing it down the street like fucking Joe Buck or something.