The Mercedes pulls into the garage. As Carmela unbuckles and prepares to get out, Tony says, "Hey, c'mere," but she won't. "Carmela, what do you want me to say? I'm lost at sea here." "You've changed, Tony," she snaps, "and I resent it." He slumps back in his seat; Carmela goes on, "I resent it because it's destroying what little self-esteem I have left." She adds that, sometimes, she thinks he skeeves her. Tony doesn't know what that means, saying exasperatedly that "you're the mother of my children, how the fuck can I skeeve you?" Carmela bites off, "You see? You see what I'm talkin' about? Right there -- 'you're the mother of my children.' I feel like I'm just someone you've chosen to procreate with!" Tony rolls his eyes: "You knew this might happen with the Prozac!" Oh, so she's talking about the impotence. Carmela says that a friend of hers "has been on it for years, and she'd hump a fire hydrant if it could make a pass at her." Tony explains impatiently that Melfi said it affects different people in different ways, which prompts Carmela to sneer sarcastically, "Oh, she told you that?" and huff out of the car and into the house. Tony rubs his forehead and sighs.
Cut to Tony performing the coffee ceremony again in Melfi's office. She watches him for a moment, then says that before they start, they should "address the coffee situation." It's not appropriate for her to take gifts, she says; Tony stares at her, so she smiles, "Let's just make a rule, okay? No gifts." "Does this mean I can't drink mine?" Melfi laughs. Just then, her phone rings, and she apologizes, saying that she usually has the answering service handle calls when she's with a patient, but she has a car emergency. She picks up: "Yes?…What does that mean, a 'diagnostic'?…I just wanna know what's wrong with my car…no, no, don't do anything…no, I want to get a second opinion…I'll, I'll take my chances." During this exchange, Tony eyes her indulgently. She hangs up and apologizes again, and she asks how it's going. "Good, real good," Tony says, and announces that he's considering "flush[ing] the medication," just to "see if the changes I'm feeling are for real." Yeah, right -- that decision has nothing to do with the Limp Bizkit show playing in his pants at all.
Melfi points out that "the Prozac seems to be working"; Tony admits that "that might be the problem -- it might be working a little…overtime." Melfi doesn't say anything. Tony reluctantly says, "I'm having a…" "Reaction?" Melfi interrupts. "A side effect," Tony mutters. "From the stuff." Melfi reminds him that they discussed that when he started the medication, and she lists various possible side effects, none of which includes impotence, but says that they usually pass. "Are there any other…side effects…that you know of?" Tony asks pointedly. Melfi says that some people "experience a diminished libido; they have trouble getting or maintaining a --" "Bingo," Tony interrupts grimly. "You know, not all impotence is a result of the medication," Melfi says. "You saying there's something wrong with me?" Tony asks, smiling a not-really-a-smile smile. Melfi asks when Tony last had a prostate exam, and when Tony cracks that he doesn't even let anyone wag a finger in his face, Melfi bursts out laughing, then quickly apologizes and tries to calm herself. "Don't apologize," Tony says, smiling for real now. "You got a nice laugh. Hey, I'm serious," he smiles some more. Melfi is in serious mode again herself, and informs Tony that "depression is also a leading factor in impotence." She asks if he ever awakens with an erection in the morning or in the middle of the night; Tony tells her that "you could set your clock to it." Oh, could I? Please? In the words of Cliff Pantone, that was an overshare. ["Yeah, and much as he wants to, poor Tony can neither knock them down, nor roll them around." -- Wing Chun] I think Tony's trying to make her laugh again, but it doesn't work; Melfi says evenly, "Okay, so we know it's not a physical problem." Tony looks irritated by this revelation.