Season 20, Episode 62
First aired 29 March
2016
We open with Fia sitting at the kitchen table putting on
makeup, and judging by the state of her face, this activity has been going on
for a while. She finishes, or rather her supply runs out, and puts her coat on
to leave just as Evan shows up. She explains that she’s on her way to Galway
because her children’s allowance has come through and she needs to buy some more
makeup. Someone should tell her it would last longer if she didn’t treat a tube
of lipstick as a single serving. When he complains about the mess, she says
she’ll clean it up when she gets back, and when he asks when that will be, she
helpfully explains, “Later.” Then she tells him to “chillax,” and I am
officially done with her. As she skips out the door, he yells after her that
she should be ashamed of herself, leaving Péadar and Máire to take care of her
baby while she doesn’t lift a finger. She comes back to give him a lecture on
the plight of today’s single mother, and there is more of their usual arguing
before she leaves and slams the door behind her. Just then, Evan gets a text
saying “I’m on my way,” and we all hope it’s Supernanny Jo Frost come to
straighten up this dysfunctional mess.
At Berni’s, Bobbi-Lee returns from shopping with the mail in
her hand. She puts an obviously empty milk carton down on the counter and
starts to open an envelope when she hears someone coming, so she stuffs it in
her coat and quickly gets into an “I wasn’t doing anything!” position, which in
this case involves casually leaning against the counter as if she’s waiting for
a bus. It’s Berni, who’s spun the Berni Wheel Of Complaining and landed on “it
took you too long to get the milk.” Bobbi-Lee explains that she got held up by
the apparently sexy postman, who wanted her autograph. Berni doesn’t even reply
to this nonsense, instead flipping through the mail and complaining that it’s
all junk. Bobbi-Lee offers that at least it’s not a bunch of bills, and then
the subtitles claim that Berni says this gem: “Unfortunately they are
unavoidable, and they have to be paid at some point,” which is a sentence no
one would ever say unless they were in a foreign-language textbook having a
conversation that also included “Twelve francs! That’s very expensive, but it
is a gift for my aunt!” and “Where is the train station? Is it far?” Bobbi-Lee,
nervously hiding the letter under her coat, asks Berni if she’s opening the
café today, and when Berni says that no, Siobhán is doing it for her, Bobbi-Lee
announces that when she went by earlier, nobody was there, especially not
Siobhán doing any kind of opening. Berni flips out and goes flying out the door
in a rage, hungry for poor Siobhán’s blood, and we wonder why Bobbi-Lee didn’t,
for example, GO READ THE LETTER IN THE BATHROOM rather than probably getting
poor Siobhan, who I am imagining is a single mother with a severe limp whose
twelve children all have different disabilities, fired. Bobbi-Lee opens the
letter, and of course it’s Berni’s credit card bill, showing that Bobbi-Lee has
racked up a balance of €1942.57. Oops! Well, if she needs a job to pay it off,
I know a local café which is probably hiring as of two minutes from now.