At her apartment, Annie and Patrick are mid-foreplay, still in their clothes. When we join them, she's straddling him, kissing, and then he rolls her onto her back and makes with the canoodling, only as soon as she's on her back, her head lolls to the side and she passes out, exhausted. Patrick is dismayed suddenly to be getting his swerve on with an apparent narcoleptic, and shakes her awake, complaining that she's supposed to fall asleep after they have sex, not during. Annie lies that she was just resting her eyes, but it's too late; Patrick's confidence is gone. Annie nervously asks how long she was out, and Patrick guesses that it was five seconds or so. He sits up, flustered, telling her that she's made him feel like "the anti-stud." Annie sits up too, trying to reassure him that he's wonderful, and that she's just-- "Tired," says Patrick, dubiously. He shrugs that he gets it, and leaves. Annie is dismayed that her horrible secret has come between them already. And that she now lives so far in the sticks that she can't buy this.

Back at the opera, Marin's high from smelling all the tobacco on the smoking balcony. She and Jack head over to a little table to set down their drinks, where she thanks him for coming with her to the opera, admitting that she knows it wasn't his first choice as to how to spend an evening. Jack says he's pretty sure it wouldn't have cracked his top 20, and they chuckle, though his quickly turns to a dry cough. Marin, suspicious, asks if he's faking sick to try to get out of the actual performance. He struggles a little to get a breath, which Marin dubs his "Please Don't Make Me Go To The Opera" cough. Marin says she knows, because she developed the same affliction before her first opera, but then she went and loved it. Jack laughs that he's fine, and Marin says that's good, because he'd have to do a lot better than that. This somehow does not segue to a shot of Jack sawing his hand off in the bathroom.