Did I have something resembling a point here? Oh, right -- selling patio furniture on Route 22 = anonymous schleppy existence. So Meadow asks if anything interested Tony in college, and he shakes his head and admits that he "barely got in," and Meadow says all gleefully scandalized, "Really?" and they joke around a little bit, and then Meadow says she has something to tell him. Tony stares at her dully and, thinking she's pregnant, asks, "You're not...?" "No, Jesus!" Meadow snaps, then confesses reluctantly that she and "some friends" did "some speed" -- in fact, they did "kind of a lot of it for awhile" -- and that, what with homework and SATs and "the general pressure of life," they needed something to keep going. Oh, whatever, Meadow. Try a can of Jolt and some Pixy Stix like a normal person. God, I sound like an old woman.
Anyway, Tony tells her that "that crap'll kill you," and Meadow says defensively, "I know," and Tony says he ought to slap the shit out of her (amen) and asks where she got it, and she grumbles, "If I thought this was gonna be a lecture I never would have told you." Tony, exasperated: "Take a reality check -- what do you think I'm gonna say? Where did you get it?" "No way I'm telling you, not after this reaction," she snots. "Why did you tell me?" Tony wants to know. "You were honest with me today," she says. Tony looks shocked and shakes his head; Meadow assures him that "I won't be doing it again, it got too scary," and Tony muses that "this is right under my nose." So to speak. "You'd think you'd know," he adds. Meadow makes a small moue at his naïveté: "No, Dad. You won't." Tony takes her hand and says he's glad she told him, "in spite of everything"; she says she is too: "I'm glad we have that kinda relationship." Aw.
Father Phil puts another log (heh) on the fire (heh) and sits down on the couch with Carmela; there's a bottle of wine and a half-full glass on the table. Carmela mopes that Tony hates building fires, beautiful fireplace, same three logs in it for ages, blah blah blah martyr-cakes. Father Phil jokes, "Fear of fire, good deterrent to keep outta hell," and Carmela sighs, "Maybe there is hope for him." Give it up, girl. Father Phil hands her a book, saying that the chapter on Buddhism "is spectacular," but he doesn't want Carmela "going over to those zany Zennies," and Father Phil really needs to cool it with the Hip 'N' With-It Religious Dude business. "Fat chance," Carmela says; she could never just sit on the floor and think about nothing. Then she thanks him with a big crush-o-rama smile. Father Phil blathers on about Islam getting a bad rap in popular culture, adding that the Chianti "is beyond reproach." Carmela smiles the crushy smile again.