Update for Wednesday May 20th: Baby You Can Drive My Car…

 

"Honest-leh! I look nothing like her!"

"Honest-leh! I look nothing like her!"

This Has Turned Out Horrib-leh!!

It is raining cats and dogs as the road-trippers drive back from Calais, but the real black cloud is Au-dreh, who has been in a sour mood all weekend. I’m not the greatest Janice fan in the world, but at least she knows how to have a laugh. She is yukking it up as she relives having told the supermarket bloke (or bloque, we are in France) that Audrey was Camilla Parker Bowles coming in for fags. Bwah!! Before they have gone too far, the van gets a flat tire. They are rescued by French-CAA, and the happy wanderers pass their time at a rest station. Audrey and Bill duck inside for a bite, and Audrey’s sulk deepens as Bill fails to sympathize that her delicate sensibilities have been upended by Janice’s coarseness on the road trip.

 

Bill tells Audrey that she needs to turn her frown upside-down, and goes outdoors for a beer with Roger and Jan, who are guarding the booze cache. They toast Audrey through the window. Once they are ready to be on their way, Audrey says that Bill’s one beer has rendered him a dangerous driver (not to be too, too snide…I support her point, to a point) and she decides that the remaining miles must be driven by her. Not overly intimate with standard, she grinds Bill’s gears a bit while her passengers hoot.

 

The chatter in the car continues, and Janice mentions a film she’s purchased which featured Edith Piaf…whose unusual warble Janice, Bill and Roger eagerly imitate. Audrey is annoyed as the impromptu Piffy concert has caused Bill to miss indicating their turn. The civility unravels quickly, with Janice accusing Audrey of being a snob, Audrey accusing Janice of being mother to a tart, and various other insults. As Audrey becomes engrossed in the bickering, she faces ’round, and sure enough, loses control and the van goes bounding into the bushes.

 

He’s Just Not That Into You

 

 

Nuthin' says luvin' like...

Nuthin' says luvin' like...

 

Despite a summer downpour, the morning finds Dev in a cheery mood. This makes Amber immediately suspicious and flinchy, until her nickel drops and she figures out there’s a lady in the picture. Sure enough, Lisa drives up, for a lunch date with Dev. Smiling cordially, Dev escorts Lisa on foot to the Rovers for a hot pot. This is clearly not what Lisa has in mind but she’s too polite to say so.

 

At the pub, they make more vapid, pointless small talk, which Dev steers around to Nina. Lisa declines the local hot pot as she’s a vegetarian. Dev offers to accommodate with a cheese sandwich, but this offer, combined with the entrance and inclusion of Norris and Emily, send Lisa a clear message that He’s Just Not That Into Her. She cuts the lunch date short and says adieu. Having accomplished this blow-off with flair, Dev settles happily into his own hot-pot.

 

As Dev lolls outside the Rovers, having, apparently, nothing better to do, Nina purrs up in her Jag, with a lovely satsuma-orange scarf on her head. She offers to ease Dev’s apparent pain over the loss of Lisa. With a little encouragement, he joins her and off they drive. Whether or not this little romance is a good idea…I am delighted to see an older, voluptuous woman being an object of passion. Kudos, guys.

 

Clarissa swans into the Rovers, trades more tired nip-n-tuck jibes with Liz and orders champagne on ice for her and Harry for later. I’m assuming the only reason for this character’s Lauren-like simpering and face-sucking is to incur our sympathy for Liz. Who banged the drayman. On Vern. For fun. We Calabrese have long memories.

 

TinaMcIntyre@woozamail.com

 

I tried it…it’s fake…don’t bother.

David is in obvious turmoil over Tina’s secret online activities. He inadvertently wakes Doz by banging a ball against the shed and they have a wee chat about it. David spends the rest of the day attempting to log into Tina’s e-mail whenever she’s out of the room. Finally, in the late afternoon, he cracks her password, just as Doz comes over. It appears that Tina has, indeed, been exchanging many e-mails with her ex, Matt. Darryl tells David not to worry; if Tina was seeing someone else, she’d just be straight-up about it. If that were true, it would make Tina just about the most refreshing person around these days.

 

C’est toute!

 

 

 

 

 

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About t. kunzie

Toni Kunz is a female soccer trainer in a mens' world, graphic designer and aspiring writer. She lives and works in Toronto.
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8 Responses to Update for Wednesday May 20th: Baby You Can Drive My Car…

  1. Frank says:

    Why did I not see the resemblance ? Thank you Janice.

  2. missusmac says:

    Thank you Kunzie. I missed last night’s episode because a meeting (damn work getting in the way again!), and your update was just like being there.

    Now I can spend the day at work wondering just how Prem is going to crush Dev once he finds out…

    • cheeky grrl says:

      Prem undoubtedly has a ninja’s toolbox of weaponry stashed under his super ginormous earlobes. Dev will be ripe for the crushing, missusmac!

  3. Diane/tvor says:

    I think they were back on UK soil by the time the car had the flat weren’t they? The breakdown driver was definitely British. The reason Nina was wearing that big headscarf and sunglasses is because the actress can’t drive so they had to disguise a real driver, the owner of the car i think, to drive the car on and off the set.

  4. John says:

    Screw Gmail. I want a Woozamail account!

  5. haili says:

    LOL. Thanks kunzie. I didn’t realize they were singing Edith Piaf songs and to me, they sounded nothing like her; I’ll have to listen again. I always thought Audrey looked like Camilla but she probably thinks she’s better looking.

  6. Debbie says:

    I think if Tina wanted to dump David and move on, she would absolutely.

  7. cheeky grrl says:

    Nice update, kunzie! It’s clear to me now that our Audrey has a case of the Camillas in la visage.

    And I also didn’t realize it was an Edith Piaf song they were butchering in the voiture. Haven’t heard a Piaf chanson since grade 11 French class. On a side note, our French teacher would also have us count to ten using our most seductive voices. Ahhhhh, edu-macation at its finest!

    And yes, my French is merde, but my franglais is superbe!

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