Dirty Confession: I fell asleep during this week's Ringer broadcast. I had to wake up early the next morning and watch the rest of it to write up the recaplet. I settled down Wednesday afternoon, to watch it all the way through, and fell asleep again. I put it on Wednesday night, and fell asleep, again. Despite its twists and reveals, this episode is the best thing that's ever happened to my insomnia. I dragged myself out of bed at 4:00 AM to watch and finish this write up. The kids will be getting up for school at 6:00, so I figure even if I fall asleep, they'll wake me up, because that's their gift.
Bridget-as-Shiv takes on the Cora persona for a day of discovery with discreet driver, Solomon, who is ex-military -- Special Forces. When Solomon asks why she's asking him so many questions about her own life, Bridget says she's recently sober and can't remember big chunks of time. As I mentioned in the recaplet that might be the truest thing uttered all episode. Per her request, Solomon checks his records and tells her the last time he drove her anywhere was September 8, 2011. She's thrown by the date and admits that something happened around then to someone she really loved and asks to retrace her steps from that day.
Bridget's first stop is at Shiv's secret Harlem office. The security guard comments that, as per her request, her name has never gone up on the building index, but he's surprised to see her come through the front, because Shiv-as-Cora always snuck in the back, Jack. Bridget pretends she lost her keys and gets the guard to let her in Shiv's office. Seated at the desk, she finds a Post-it note that reads 1947 Main Street. The real Siobhan is watching from the closet. And? She's packing heat. Title card.
Bridget finds a small key on a boat keyring, taped under the desk. Looking around to see what it might open, she notices the closet door is ajar. Don't go in there, NICE BUFFY. MEAN BUFFY WILL KILL YOU. Bridget opens the closet door. Shiv slinks into the shadows. Since the closet seems to contain nothing but boxes of records, Bridget closes it and returns to the car.
Solomon doesn't recognize the key or that Main Street address, so she asks him to take her to her next stop. He's surprised she's sitting in front and cracks that she sure is different... sober. I think of something fresh to say, but yesterday, my mother told me she is going to start tsking me when I get bawdy in my recaps, "...because you're better than that, Cindy." I remind her I am a product of my heredity and environment, and she's partially responsible for both. She doesn't care, and tsks me, for the heck of it. I REALLY CAN'T TAKE THE STRESS, MUM!