“Coronation Street” recap: Little Lezzer Love

Back in the spring, you guys told me to watch Coronation Street, and I was thoroughly reluctant to do so because you couldn’t just say “Sophie and Sian.” You had to juxtapose Sophie and Sian to Naomi and Emily, and so I refused to watch it the way I refuse to read books when people compare them to Harry Potter. Because nice card trick and everything, but I’ve been to Hogwarts, OK? I kinda pulled down an O in my Defense Against The Dark Arts O.W.L.

I finally caved and watched Corrie, though, and I really loved it. I even recapped it!

But then Brooke Vincent and Sacha Parkinson had to sit some exams or something. Whatever it is British teen actors do instead of dropping out of school before they learn how to properly punctuate a Tweet like American teen actors do. And so they were away for a while, and then they came back, and I forgot to watch because I was preoccupied with the extra-dimensionally horrible s–t storm that is lesbians on US television.

I’ve snapped out of that now, thank Merlin. So here’s what’s going down: I’m going to catch us up with Corrie every day this week, and then I’m going to start recapping it on Tuesdays. Same rules as last time: 1) Don’t compare it to Skins in the comments unless you want my head to explode. 2) Forgive me if I f–k up the dialogue. I’m not even sure the Mancunian accent qualifies as English.

Seriously, though. Here’s what I know about Mancunians:

A Mancunian is a fine person who was born in or currently resides in the most majestic city of Manchester. Unfortunately, they live not 40 miles away from the utter bastard scum of Liverpool but in their brilliance, continue to prosper as the Capital of the North, even if the scousers come up the East Lancs to nick more tyres.

Also, to the untrained ear, it might sound like Sian has recently returned from Southpaw, when, in actual fact, she has returned from Southport, the city where her mum resides. And now here she is, working that gaymo fashion favorite, the plaid button up! I have that shirt in a variety of colors. Naomi Campbell has it in yellow.

She squeals her thanks into the phone and then squeals her delight at Sophie and then says, “Uh, bah-bye, Southport! My mum says I can stay here until my exams! Or until one of my internal organs ruptures! Whichever comes first!” (Oh. Er. Spoiler Alert.) They hug and are: a) Adorable, and b) Better than every lesbian teen on American TV so far this fall. (Not to belabor the point or anything; I know how you Brits buckle under the weight of too much praise.)

Sian hangs around the shop under the guise of helping Sophie study, but mostly she just wants to get her feet on camera to show off her new Converse. Lesbian assimilation: Sixty-three percent complete.