Whenever we get a car, this place turns into a whorehouse!

And with that, we have Don’s summation of the entire episode.

This was an episode that answered so many questions without answering anything at all. Just like a 1960s ad man on amphetamines, this episode was a burst of creativity with little focus.

Don Draper has reconvened his role as chief creeper as he spends hours outside Sylvia’s door. He is stalking without stalking. But this is a primal urge that seems to go deeper into his psyche.

As the numerous flashbacks to his childhood throughout the episode reveal he never had a mom. And by mom, I mean a woman who cared for and nurtured him and showed him how to treat women. We get a glimpse into his misogyny when the woman, not his “mother,” who nurtured him back to health when he was sick also becomes the woman who molests him and steals his virginity. No doubt this has affected his view of sex.

Through his fascination of an old ad campaign for oatmeal we realize that he connects Sylvia with this maternal picture. And it is why he is suffering from a broken heart over Sylvia ending things.

Chevy has become a thorn in the company’s side, but they are paying them a lot of money so they are forced to play by their rules. Don sees this as robbing his creative innocence. And that was before the drugs.

So, back in the late 60s “energy serum” was common amongst businessmen in Manhattan. Basically, doctors offered these “vitamin complexes” to give people bursts of energy. This “Speed” has disastrous affects to a weekend of work. Kenny tap-dances for Don (no, literally…it was impressive). Peggy kisses Stan. Stan shacks up with a mystic. When Ted gets back, he realizes that nothing really creative got accomplished.

While Don is on his weekend “trip,” Sally is left alone with the kids again when Megan has to go schmooze for a role in a play. An elderly black woman breaks in, robs them and does so by telling the kids that she is Don’s mother who raised him. Sally is only 14 but we get the sense that her innocence of childhood, the innocence that says that adults really no better has been ripped away.

In one of the most heart-wrenching scenes, Sally confesses to Don that she realizes that she doesn’t really know him at all.

Don’t worry Sally none of us really do. And we are beginning to wonder, like you, whether we ever really will.