Original subtitles

Previously on Bob Hearts Abishola...

"MaxDot Therapeutic Hosiery.

Robert J. Wheeler, president."

Hmm.Therapeutic hosiery.

Hmm. Very fancy.

He was actually quite nice.

He said he didn't want to be a bother,

and if I changed my mind, "the ball is in my court."

Oh, like in basketball.

No, no, it's tennis.

Ever seen how big this man is?

He does not play tennis.

It's just a saying.What is?

The ball in your court. It means she can call him.

Well, I'm not calling anybody.

I have work, I have school, I have my son.

I have no time for balls.

Well, there goes the second date.

[laughs]

Auntie, Uncle, can we speak privately, please?

Don't worry. Uh, we are Team Bob.

What is he doing here?

We invited him for tea and biscuits

to discuss whether a match could be made.

A match? I do not want a match.

It's not about what you want.

It's about what is good for the whole family.

Okay, it is decided.

Abishola will have tea with you on Tuesday afternoon.

The only way I would spend time with Abishola

is if she wants to.

Ooh. This is bad.

Abishola?

I will have tea with you.

Are you sure? 'Cause I don't want you to do

anything against your will.

I said will have tea with you. Stop talking.

Oh, that's wonderful news.

Your brother's grandson got accepted

to the University of Nigeria.

Which grandson?Which grandson?

Number 12.

Oh. David.

Good.

Ooh. Ask her to send us a bag of stockfish.

You can get that at the supermarket.

Oh, they don't sell the heads. I like the heads.

Okay. Please send stockfish.

Make sure

you wrap it properly.

Last time, the suitcase smelled terrible

and I had to tell the man at the airport

that Tunde had a leg infection.

You didn't have to tell him anything.

We could have just left.

Good morning, Auntie and Uncle.

Good morning, Abishola.Good morning.

Yes, Abishola is doing very well.

She finally met a man.

Uh-uh. Who are you talking to?

My sister.Which one?

The one who gave birth to you.

Mommy, I did not meet anyone.

Move away. This is my conversation.

Between work and school,

Abishola had no chance of meeting somebody

until I stepped in.

You're welcome.

His name is Bob, he's American and he owns a big sock company.

He was so honored to meet us that he followed us to our home.

Eh, after he caught you spying on him.

I have already said you are welcome.

Uh, Dele, the grown-ups are talking. Go to school.

But I'm hungry.Be hungry for knowledge.

Yes, he's handsome.

Like Kevin James with a mustache...

...only more orobo.

Orobo?Bob is not that fat.

[chuckles]: Yes.

Trust me, he's orobo.

["Ifanla" by Sola Akingbola playing]

So if I want to say hello in her language....

E karo. E karo.

No, no, e karo.

Pretty sure that's what I said.

Now, how do you say goodbye?

O dabo. O dabo. O dabo.

O dabo, o dabo. You know, I speak Mandarin.

I did not know that.

Nice. Now I want Chinese for lunch.

Okay, this is important.

How do you say, "I'm sorry your aunt and uncle forced you

"to spend time with me, but I really enjoyed myself

and I'd like to do it again"?

Ma binu iya iya re ati egbon re fi agbara

mu o lati lo akoko pelu mi,

sugbon mo gbadun ara mi ati Mo fe lati se e leekansi.

Uh, w-what's that first word? Binu?

It means, "I'm sorry."

That's good. That's all I need.

So, how are things with you and the sock king?

[chuckles]There are no things.

There is just tea.

KEMI: Very good.

It's going very good.

Every sock king needs a sock queen.

[both laugh]

Stop it, both of you.

If I were to marry again...

You will.I won't.

You will. You wi...I won't. I won't.

ABISHOLA: But if I were

to marry again,

it would only be to a Nigerian man.

Only? That kind of narrows down your options, doesn't it?

Don't listen to her. She has many options.

Top of the list, Nigerian man, same tribe.

Yoruba. Mm-hmm.

Then Nigerian man, different tribe.

Igbo. Mm-hmm.

KEMI: Then

other Africans.

Except Tunisians and Egyptians.

Obviously.

Then

Caribbean, then white,

then African-American.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Wait, wait.

So, a black man is last on your list?

Below white men?

You get it.

I get that you full of crap.

Hmm? Huh-uh.

All you Africans

think you better than us.

Well... Well, what?

You don't make it easy for yourselves.

What's that supposed to mean?Oh, come on.

Gangbangers, welfare stamps, the baby mamas.

You're just buying into that racist propaganda

you see on TV.

There are more white people on food stamps and welfare

than black people.

That's not what it says on the Fox News.

Which is fair and balanced.Mm-hmm.

Okay, I'll tell you what.

Next time I get an e-mail from a Nigerian prince,

you want me to assume it's one of you heffas trying to scam me?

Calm down, both of you.Heffa? Who are you calling heffa?

Kemi, Kemi, you are upsetting Gloria.

You both upsetting Gloria.

You think white folks see a difference between us?

To them, we all look the same.

You get pulled over by a cop,

he's not gonna see your little ranking system.

He's just gonna see this.

We wouldn't get pulled over.

We obey the traffic laws.

Hey, what are you doing there? Get away.

Why are you reading about Nigeria?

I said, get away.

All right, all right.

You ever hear of privacy?Ah, calm down.

It's not like there's any porn on there.

How do you know?I looked.

Mom's browsing history is more interesting than yours.

So, why Nigeria?

Don't worry about it.

Ooh. Is it a charity thing?

People buy a pair of socks,

we give away a pair to a poor person?

We're not doing that.

You sure? We don't really have to give anything away.

Nobody checks.

That's not happening.

So, what's the deal, then?

None of your business.

We're only as sick as our secrets, big brother.

Where'd you get that?Alcoholics Anonymous saying.

Are you...?

No, no, no. I just like dating women in recovery.

Why is that?

Less pressure.

They hate themselves before they sleep with me.

Come on. What's the deal?

Fine. I met somebody.

In Nigeria?

No. Then where?

In the hospital.

That nurse you were looking for.

Yeah. [laughs]: Oh.

So, she's Nigerian, then?

Yeah.

Just to be clear, we're not talking African-American,

we're talking, like, African-African?

Or just African.

Right.

Looking at a map, where's Nigeria?

Between Benin and Cameroon.

Oh, sure, yeah. Now I know.

By the way, you and her, it'll never work.

Why not?

Bob. Bob. Bob.

[sighs]

A bird may love a fish,

but where will they build a home together?

Is that more words to live by from women in recovery?

Actually, that's from Fiddler on the Roof.

Which I saw

'cause I was dating a Jewish girl

who was also in recovery, so, yeah, I guess.

Hello, Richard.

Hey, Abishola.

How's it going with Bob?

Huh-- how do you know about Bob?

My God.

You told the bus driver?

I told everybody.

In this terrible world that we live in,

people need to hear good news.

You need to stop telling people my business.

Okay, okay. Thank you.

I put it on my Facebook.

I got 75 likes.

Take it down.

Why? I'm excited for you

and so are 75 people you don't know.

I just need you to stop talking and respect my privacy.

[scoffs] Stop talking?

As you wish.

Don't be like that.

Like what? I'm just respecting your privacy.

Mm. Richard,

did you know that Kemi is single?

Working late?

Yup. Me, too.

Thank God for caffeine and Adderall, huh?

You're still taking that stuff?

Oh, yeah. It, uh, helps with my attention deficit disorder.

Well, I guess that's good, but be careful,

you don't want to start depending on it.

I'm sorry, what?

Nothing. I'll see you later.

Oh, hey, Bob?

You want to keep your personal life personal,

don't talk about it with Douglas.

Aw, damn it. You're right. Stupid.

And speaking of stupid, are you out of your freaking mind?

What?

Bob, you spent 12 years married to a woman

who shared everything with you.

I mean, you ate the same foods,

you enjoyed the same movies,

hell, you kind of looked the same.

Not at the beginning. She turned into me.

Well, my point is, you still couldn't make the marriage work.

How do you think it's gonna go

if you get involved with someone

you have absolutely nothing in common with?

Well, did you ever stop to consider

that maybe opposites attract?

Baloney. Opposites avoid each other.

They hate each other.

They stab each other with steak knives.

Feels like we should be talking about your failed marriage.

Why would you say that?

Well, you stabbed your ex-husband

in the ass with a steak knife.

Like you've never made a mistake!

Good talk. Love you!Drop dead, Bob!

E karo,Goodwin. E karo,Mr. Wheeler.

Have you seen your lady friend again?Not yet,

but we have plans to have tea tomorrow.

How do you say "tea" in her language?

Tii. Tii.

Perfect.

Look at me, trying to date a woman from Nigeria.

You are pressing the envelope.

E karo. E karo.

Karo.

E karo, Mr. Wheeler.

Hey, Mr. Wheeler.

O dabo.

[knocking on door][door opens]

Bob, got a minute? Yeah.

I just spoke to Douglas.

[groans]

There is nothing to be embarrassed about.

I think it's wonderful.

Really? Absolutely.

You have my complete support.

Wow, thanks, Mom.

You're welcome, honey.

[door closes]I don't know if I ever told you this,

but I used to hang around the clubs

back when Motown Records was getting started.

Is that so?Oh, yeah.

Of course, that was before I met your father.

There were a couple of night spots in Detroit

where you could spend time with the actual musicians.

Okay...

Not to brag, but your mom sang a little harmony

with two Temptations and a Pip.

Good story. Thanks.

You remember that song "You Can't Hurry Love"?

None of them did.

[knocking on window]Hello.

Oh, yeah, that is one very funky gallbladder.

Sponge stick.

Thank you.

So, Abishola, I hear there's a new fellow in your life now.

[giggles] [stammers]

Where did you hear this?

Oh, a little bird told me.

Forceps.

Does this little bird have a Facebook page?

Yes, and a Snapchat.

Oh, my God.

You know, my brother married a white girl.

She became a Hindu, wore a sari, did everything right.

It was still a disaster.

I am not marrying anyone.

Well, if you do,

don't count on your family

to provide much in the way of support.

To this day, my mother refuses

to be in the same room with Betty Jo.

I got you,

you slippery bastard.

Hot potato. [chuckles]

Okay, let's sew him up.

I hope you're happy.

How can I not be?

I'm making green Jell-O for hundreds of sick people.

Because of you,

everybody in this hospital now knows about me and Bob.

I'm sorry.

I did as you asked, I took down the Facebook page,

and I returned the GoFundMe money

for your bachelorette party.

Mm-mm. More sugar.

Well, people are still talking.

Because they are rooting for you. People love love.

There is no love.

[scoffs] Give it time.

I didn't really love my husband until after he was dead.

I know you want the best for me.

I'm asking, please leave it alone.

Okay, consider it left and alone.

Thank you.

I can't believe this is what you are feeding the patients.

Are you joking? This is the healthiest thing on the menu.

Mum? Hmm?

Are you okay?

Yes, uh, just tired.

Can I ask you a question?Make it quick.

Are you going to marry the sock man?

Of course not. Where did you hear that?

Cousin Yemisi sent me a Facebook message.

Ah, they are talking about it in London?

Amsterdam. They're on holiday.

Oh, my God. Stay off the Facebook, please.

It's also on Twitter.

Stay off all of it.

Okay.

What should I tell my dad?

Your father has another family and he lives in Lagos.

This is none of his business.

Yes, Mum.

Have you been talking to him about it?

Not anymore.

E karo,Abishola. Here's your tii.

Your tii.Your tii.

Hello, Bob. Hey!

Uh, e karo,Abishola. Here's your tii.

Yes, e karo, but I cannot stay.

Why not?

I have decided

that it is not right for us to be...

I do not know what we are, but we cannot be... it.

I don't understand.

You are a very nice man, and I am sorry,

but this is what has to happen.

O dabo.

[speaking Yoruba]