Maison de Soprano. Carmela comes downstairs in her nightgown and robe, which you should enjoy while it lasts, because it's the only robe you'll see all week. I guess this is what happens when you let outsiders like Steve Buscemi direct your episodes for you. She blathers about AJ being out past curfew, and then gets to the real point of the scene, which is her embarrassed surprise at finding Furio in the house. She pulls the robe closed tightly around herself, and there's some blah blah awkwardness before he turns to leave.
Later, Tony is already in bed when Carmela comes in to join him. Since the vast majority of the dialogue in this scene consists of nothing but thinly veiled exposition, I'll just break it down for you: First off, Carmela wants to fix up Furio with her dental hygienist, a lovely young woman who's been having an affair with the dentist but now seems "very receptive" to the idea of dating Furio. I'll just bet she is. "She's not his type," mumbles Tony, while no doubt enjoying visions of Icelandic stewardesses and kneecapped Asian massage therapists. "Oh? What is his type?" replies Carmela, while no doubt enjoying visions of a sweaty, naked Furio planting grapes and signing life insurance trusts. Tony calls his wife "my little Hello Dolly" while poking his finger into her ear in an ultimately vain attempt to distract her from continuing with the exposition. Now she explains all about how she took the Mercedes that Tony was just riding in to the garage for repairs, where an overly talkative sales clerk apparently informed her that Gloria Trillo, "that nice saleslady" who once gave her a ride home, has recently committed suicide. Dun dun DUN! Carmela's demeanor through all this would seem to indicate that she still has no idea Gloria was giving her husband rides of a very different sort, even when she informs a speechless Tony that the woman hung herself from a chandelier. And while I can't really praise the method of reveal here in the script, I can at least give credit to those sneaky editors in the promo department, who set this one up perfectly.
Vesuvio. The new hostess is a pretty young thing who, despite the obvious differences inherent in the fact that she's both French and a brunette, still manages to remind us that Adriana once held this very job via the leopard-print top she's wearing. Over at the bar, Artie is deep in conversation with a middle-aged man who is quickly revealed to be the hostess's brother. It seems he needs $50,000 to purchase the North American distribution rights for something called "Domaine Vezelay Armangac." "It's the next vodka," he explains. Um, okay. Whatever you say there, Captain Jacques. "I tell my brother you know people who people who lend money," adds Elodi, or Cosette or Tennille or whatever the hell her name is. After taking a brief moment to sexually harass his employee, Artie tells Captain Jacques that since the people he knows don't know Jacques, Artie will, in effect, be taking on the role of lender. They dicker over the vig, which is a fun sentence to say out loud, and then settle on a rate that Alan Greenspan sees only in his wildest dreams. Business thus settled, Charmaine arrives to break things up by sending Elodi to clear an empty table. Oy. I don't know what Katherine Narducci was up to over the hiatus, but Charmaine looks horrible. She seems to have aged ten years since the last time we saw her. Upon hearing her name, Captain Jacques wants to know if she's French. "Not remotely," replies Artie.