Melfi's office. The awkward silence is punctuated by Tony's rhythmic heavy breathing, which has been almost as constant a presence this season as Foreshadowing himself. Hell, after he cut off Joey's hand, I half-expected him to turn to the corpse and say, "Johnny Sack never told you what happened to your father, did he? Well, guess what? I am your father!" Now that would have been a plot twist. Instead, however, he turns to Melfi to get an analysis of his latest dream. After recapping the whole thing for her (and leaving out several crucial details, which is why Tony doesn't work for TWoP), he adds, "I don't know where we were going…no place. We never seemed to get anywhere. Kind of like this therapy." Or the Carmela/Furio plotline, for that matter. Melfi takes this backhanded insult in stride, and asks what Tony thinks the dream means. "Can't you just tell me what the fuckin' thing means?" he responds. "I mean, you obviously know." Melfi professes ignorance, saying that she's not the one who had the dream, then prods Tony about the fact that the Cadillac reminded him of his father's old car. "With my wife driving," adds Tony. "Which if my father were alive, he wouldn't have stood for for two fucking seconds." Heh. We have that same rule in my family, but only because my mom is the only person on this Earth who could actually get lost in her own driveway. Seriously. She's got like four hundred maps and a GPS in the car, and it still doesn't help. Tony expounds on his father's patriarchal driving policies by suggesting that wives should be forced to "ride in a little cart behind the car. Like in the cartoons." Or Afghanistan. Melfi is appalled by this idea, and Tony, perhaps also seeking to pre-empt my descent into politically-themed humor, rapidly tries to justify himself. "It's a fucking joke," he sighs. "Does it have to be like a cancer hospital in here?" Well, that sort of depends on how many jokes I can cram into this paragraph, I suppose, and since I haven't had much luck so far, I guess the answer would have to be yes.
Melfi proceeds to deliver some psychobabble which indicates that the dream means Tony wants to square things with Carmela, and she reminds him that Freud once said that dreams are wishes. Hmm. I always thought it was Cinderella who said that. Anyway, Tony isn't interested in her wishy-washy analysis, and starts complaining that therapy has been nothing but a big waste of time for him. "Now, what about impulse control," he wonders. "I've been sitting in this chair for four fucking years and still nothing's been done about that, and it leads me to make mistakes in my work." Well, at least he's acknowledging that mistakes were made, right? I mean, that's progress, isn't it? Tony, however, isn't finished. "With the money I been dropping in here, I could have bought a fucking Ferrari," he spits. "At least I would have gotten a blowjob out of that." "What do you mean?" asks Melfi, failing to understand that Tony is actually being openly bitter about the fact that she herself has never gone down on him. Ahh, Tony. Where's Brenda when you need her? "I think you're glossing over the significant accomplishments we've made in here," protests Melfi. Tony's response to that is an instant classic: "Oh, my mother would come when she looked at a pot roast!" he mocks. "Oh, you're second in the birthing order! Oh, Carmela was driving the car! How fucking interesting!" Heh. Melfi reminds him that he was clinically depressed and suffering from debilitating panic attacks when they first met, and now both of those have been resolved. Tony, knowing an over-long scene when he sees one, brings things to a close by asking for a time-out.