Five Things We Learned In Corrie This Week

There's a place for everything, and everything in its place.  Audrey flatly refused to allow Maria to reorder the stock, demanding the conditioners remain on the shelves in the corner.  This seemed harsh until she mentioned that Maria had replaced them with bags of coffee.  Are you confused, Ms Connor?  You work in a hair salon, not Caffe Nero, and your clientele are mainly mithering old dears who tell you about their bunions; they are not hip young WAGs who demand a low foam double decaf before they've even put their vanity pooch on the salon chair.  Mind you, this is Maria we're talking about.  She's never been the warmest Carmen roller in the bag.  She probably got confused by those TV ads for caffeine shampoos, and if Audrey hadn't intervened, Maria would've been smearing Mrs Lovelady's loose curls with Nescafe.

Tracy Barlow is a Belieber.  An unusual music choice for a forty-one year old woman, but mugs don't lie. 

You can do a lot under canvas.  Kirk's tents provided the show with more innuendo than a matinee of Carry on Camping.  Firstly he complained about how after his tent popped up he couldn't get it down again: Beth's reply of "try thinking about Steve Davis, that usually works" suggests she wasn't fully paying attention.  Later, after she'd forced him to chuck it away, he reminisced about the fun he used to have while alone under canvas - "I used to zip up the flaps, unzip my sleeping bag..."  Thankfully Beth interrupted before we got the full horror of his nocturnal antics.  Next week: Kirk takes Beth camping in his one remaining tent, and hilarity ensues when she does some chest expanding exercises outside while wearing a tight bra.

The Bistro's hygiene ratings are going to be under review.  Robert and Michelle were finding their sex life severely restricted by the presence of Ali and Ryan in their flat.  I mean, they had access to their own bedroom, with a closing door and a comfortable mattress, but clearly that wasn't enough.  How could they get through this lusty nightmare?  Apparently by ignoring all health and safety advice on behaviour in food preparation areas and rutting like animals in every dark corner of the Bistro.  This culminated in them doing it in a freezer, possibly the least sexy room in Weatherfield outside of Norris's back parlour, but I'm not here to kinkshame.  Whatever turns you on.  I'm pretty sure this is not the kind of behaviour the Food Standards Agency would approve of; I really don't want to eat in any restaurant where you're forced to double check the white sauce.

Friendships can arise in the oddest of places.  David's not had a mate since we lost the much-loved Graeme Proctor Garden Doctor.  When he did try to find someone to pal around with who didn't share his surname, he turned out to be a rapist.  Let's hope that his bonding session in the locked community centre with Billy leads to the two of them hanging out more, having the odd pint and commiserating over their slightly annoying (but in very different ways) children.  If nothing else, it's probably a good thing to keep someone with easy access to holy water around demon spawn David Platt at all times.

There haven't been any updates for the last couple of weeks because I've been on holiday.  Sadly I didn't get a tan like Kevin's, but then I went to Portugal, not a nuclear test site.  If you want to see my holiday snaps, head over to Twitter @merseytart.

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