The opening moments of this week's episode are all but entirely drowned out by the sound of the folks over at the Intuitive Soundtrack Department (ISD) patting themselves on the back and engaging in general merriment as Montana exits the firehouse and walks through the rain-slicked Boston streets -- during a pretty substantial downpour, natch -- to the techo-for-Top-40-lovers-who-are-in-reality-terrified-of-techno-music-and-those-people-who-create-it beats of Madonna's -- who woulda thunk it -- "Rain." Wait. I don't get it. Gee, it's a good thing there was no such popular song in 1997 begging for a product-placement shot on an MTV reality program called "Montana Does Naked Jumping Jacks"; I quake in terror to think of how the ISD would have found an appropriate spot for that one. She makes her way down the street and up the steps of a T-station conveniently located just a quick, stylized cut from her home. Now inside the moving train, a voice-over (that at no point cuts to Montana in a confessional, I think as a means of communicating some kind of "this is what's going on in my mind right now" pathos...I'm sorry, is this Look Who's Talking: The Twentysomething Years?) accompanies a few exceedingly close-up shots of Montana's face, alerting us, "There are days when it just hits me and I'm just extremely depressed, still, at having gotten fired. It's something that will be really hard for me to get over." Meanwhile, across East Boston, some poor eleven-year-old is all up to step nine, apologizing to his piano teacher and the entirety of his Pee Wee soccer team for how he acted "like a child" back when his life was controlled by the devil's poison. But last week's boozehound "Jeffrey," it seems, wasn't the one lucky enough to sign the release waivers with Bunim-Murray and have his story told, so I guess we're stuck with Montana's side of things instead for a little longer, so boo freakin' hoo, Red.
Well, she traveled and she traveled, but it seems she was unable to escape from conversing with Sean regardless (what other reason is there for leaving the house, really?). Cut to the two of them inside of The Back Bay Brewing Company, Montana downing the largest glass of "Ale About Me" brand beer that has ever been dispensed via tap and rambling, "What do I say to my mom? What do I say to my grandmother?" Well, she could try, "Me, humiliating myself and besmirching our family's good name...live on the ten spot!" But her grandmother probably wouldn't get it. She continues that she left "without saying goodbye to any of them," and takes a drag off her smoke and notes, "I'm feeling low. I'm at a low point. I'm feeling low." You're feeling what way, exactly? Oh, that's right. Low.