HBO presents...Sarah Jessica Parker being splashed by a bus. Cha cha cha!
Fade up on Carrie at home, typing away on her laptop. Her face glows bluish as she recalls her gal pal Susan Sharon, the gal with two first names who works for an Italian cashmere company, marrying a "very mean man." We flash back to another Manhattan apartment, where a very mean man screams at Susan Sharon for listening to his CDs, and even worse, putting the Natalie Imbruglia CD into the U2 jewel case. Carrie grabs her coat and flees the scene. I'd be right behind you, Car. What horrible, pedestrian taste in music! We return to VO, and Carrie says she now only sees Susan Sharon twice a year or so, and usually only when her husband is out of town.
Carrie and Susan Sharon cruise by the Museum of Natural History, sharing a cigarette and enjoying the evening. Car's in a sleek tan coat with a fun fur trim and a pink top; Sharon, all in black. Carrie giggles as Sharon recalls taking two Halcion with an airplane dinner and a cocktail and having to be slapped awake by the stewardess after drooling on herself on the tarmac in Milan for thirty minutes. Creepy! Car's giggle slips a bit when Shar totally bogarts her smoke. Hey, at least she didn't steal your lighter, Car. Shar abruptly grabs Car by the shoulders and steers her across the street, demanding they go up to her apartment. "I've got something for you." Carrie makes the perfect "whoa" face.
Once inside, Carrie exclaims that "Wow!" the place looks great. She's fiercely shushed by Susan Sharon. The Very Mean Man is asleep. Just like a giant. Sharon dances off to get whatever it is she's got for Carrie (Italian cashmere, maybe?) and Carrie VOs that Susan Sharon's apartment is like one in which omnipresent parents lurk, forbidding fun or sitting on certain pieces of furniture. That's all The Very Mean Man's doing, I'm sure. What babe that ODs on Halcion during business trips would care where you sit? You'd be lucky if she didn't fall off the couch during the twice-annual visits. I'm now getting a very funny picture in my head of Susan Sharon's furniture covered in plastic, which she slides off in slow motion after too many Valium. But no one's furniture would ever be covered in plastic on this show. A plastic dress, yes. Maybe even blue aquaturf as a floor covering. But no plastic slipcovers.
Anyway, Car opens the ever-present Barneys box and, of course, it's Italian cashmere. Carrie gushes appropriately. "It's a cashmere-ical!" Susan Sharon then says all in one rush, "You'd never guess how much Barneys gets for a sweater like this -- nine hundred dollars." Carrie barely gets to protest she doesn't want to hear how much her gift cost before hearing the number. Car is all, "I could really use the cash!" Shar doesn't care. "Why do you think they call it CASH-mere!" Oh, the jokes don't stop. The two women cackle and collapse against each other; then before you can say fee-fie-fo-fum, here comes The Very Mean Man. He screams and bellows about their "arrangement" about guests after nine, and yells about being on "London time," and finally thunders that they should "take their fucking noise somewhere else." Carrie cringes, collects her coat, and tiptoes out. Sharon is like, you don't have to, but Car wants to. As she sidles by the Very Mean Man, she says, "Goodnight, grumpy." VMM's response is "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Carrie skedaddles like a bead of condensation on the side of a bottle of Coke. She knew taunting the VMM was a bad idea. He and Shar get in each other's faces, screaming for the other to "shut the fuck up," as the door slams.
Back in her apartment, Carrie wonders if their marriage is really that bad, or just "a form of foreplay" for which she was the unwitting catalyst. Ew, fight-fucking. That can't be good. Her phone trills. It's Susan Sharon. She's sorry, and embarrassed. Car lights a cigarette and says maybe there were circumstances. Shar says it's always been like this, and what would Carrie do? Would she leave a man like that? Should Shar leave? Car exhales and says, "If you're not happy. Life's too short." The VMM stirs and Shar is all, gotta go, and hangs up. Carrie's all, ruh-roh. Conundrum-amundo!
Lights up on the four friends eating salads and talking. Miranda is all, "You just don't tell your friend to leave her husband. Then if they break up, it's your fault." Samantha adds that if they don't break up, the friend knows that's what you want, and can never look you in the eye again. Mir adds what a shame it would be to lose the "cashmere connection." Carrie says she was caught at a weak moment, tired and with "a birthday looming." Aren't these women emancipated enough to know that, like Francesco Rinaldi, we don't get older but better? Well, we do. And yeah, I read that quote in US magazine about how SJP hated working with a supermodel and tries not to surround herself with drop-dead gorgeous women on a regular basis, which is catty as can be, so maybe there are issues beyond simply growing older at play. But seriously, can we try to grow beyond the obvious "eek, I'm not twenty anymore"? Being twenty sucked. Anyhow, Charlotte is all happy-peppy, "I think people should be able to say whatever they feel to each other," which is instantly shot down by Sam, who says all the relationships she knows of are "based on a foundation of lies, mutually accepted delusion." She mentions James, her short-dick man, and how she won't mention his penis isn't enough, and he won't bring up that they haven't had sex in three weeks. Yee-ouch. Mir says the guy she's dating likes to talk too much -- well, too dirty, really. We flashback to Mir being kissed and fondled in bed, as the guy narrates the action. Her pussy is so wet, kissing her breasts is so unbelievably sexy, so hot and dirty...he's recapping the action as it happens. I can see how that would get old. I mean, he's so serious and literal. So straightforward. Where are the jokes? He could at least blow a raspberry on her stomach. Or he could say how he loves it as she does stuff to him. Then he's all, "How's it feel to you," and Mir is like, "What you said!"
Back at the table, Mir contends that sex is not a time for chatting, and in her "over-articulated life," she looks forward to some silent time in the bedroom. Charlotte says that's easy to correct -- just mention his "big cock." Sam is all, "Correction. His big, beautiful cock." Car asks if "we're using the c-word now." Um, ahem, the c-word is not "cock." The c-word is "cunt," and you should KNOW that, Miss Sex Column Writer Lady Girl. Don't even front. Then she adds, "A simple 'you're so hard' is often quite effective." Char says egging them on may do it. You know, "don't stop, oh my god," et cetera. Miranda giggles, apparently having just been released from under a rock moments ago and having never seen a movie with sexual content ever before in her life. Or maybe she thought that good girls didn't do what they saw in the movies, or on TV? No, that's "good girls don't wear gold nameplate necklaces that they saw TV characters wear." Car is all, "During sex, you're completely mute?" Hee. Mir says that besides an "orgasm alert," namely, saying she's "gonna come," she's Helen motherfucking Keller. Sam is all, better hire a miracle worker, then! 'Cause your guy won't be happy with sign language.
Carrie types in her stretchy nude tank top and poses the Question of the Episode: "Are there still certain things in a relationship we shouldn't say?" I know the answer to this. It's "duh."
Montage. A woman says her friend is marrying an idiot. Is she supposed to say so? A firefighter (yay, hero!) says his wife's had her breasts done twice. "They look fantastic, they feel like shit." He keeps that thought to himself. Then Susan Sharon tells Carrie she told her Very Mean Man that she couldn't spend another day married to a man who acts like such a complete asshole. Whooo! But Carrie is all, this is my fault! I said too much! The two ladies are in Balducci's, munching on treats. Carrie asks what happened . VMM said that as he and Susan Sharon were getting married, he looked at her and "felt a wave of disappointment because [she] was so generic." Damn! Good riddance, then. But of course, that's hard to say, so Carrie doesn't. VMM also said he pitied Susan Sharon because he'll be remarried in a year and she'll be single for the rest of her life. Carrie VOs that that statement is "probably true." Susan Sharon grabs Car and is all, "I owe you so much! This is all because of you!" Oh, man. They make arrangements for Susan Sharon to stay at Carrie's apartment tonight. Um, great?
Charlotte, tired of men, gets a dog. She looks at herself in the mirror, lets her hair down, and feels the saxophone blowing before she opens the door and sees the cutest little Jack Russell terrier ever waiting for her. Aww!
Sam sits in bed, not telling her lover about his small dong. He's all, what's the matter? Are you mad at me? I feel there's something you aren't saying. She looks the other way and offers up an "it's not you, it's me," but her eyes say, "UNSATISFIED!" He asks that they see a couples counselor. Even though Sam "fears therapy like some people fear the dentist," she agrees. He kisses her, and she glides onto the pillow, rebuffing his offer, thinking instead of "emotional instability and hot one-night stands."
Meanwhile, Mir is being kissed and having her nipples pinched and that sensitive spot by her neck kissed, and is hearing about it all as it happens. And how does she like it? Fine, she likes it fine. She flips him over and kisses his chest. Oh, he loves that. But how does she like it? It's "hot," she admits. And? "Hairy?" Oh god, oh god, he's getting so hard. And did she notice? What does she think about that development? Oh my god, I'd dump this guy in a heartbeat. He's making it too much work! But Mir gives it the college try. His cock is "hard. Rock hard. A big, hard, rock. A sausage. A big, hard throbbing cock!" Yay, she can talk dirty! Hooray!
Carrie and Susan Sharon watch Charlotte's terrier perform some tricks. But the dog is "already falling short" of Char's "expectations." He's "co-dependent" and "stubborn." May I just say, tell me about it? Sleeping to me right now is a 27-pound Jack Russell/fox terrier mix, and he's a FREAK. The vet even told me that most dogs calm down at two, but terriers calm down at twelve. But I love him so much. He's just a handful. Susan Sharon says she wants to get back to Car's place in case the VMM calls. And can you believe she married such a prick? But he does have a nicer side. And wow, he hasn't called! She grabs the dog's face and is all, "What should I do?" The dog growls and jumps off the bed, and Char says nastily, "He's a dog, not an oracle." No, I just think Susan Sharon asked the wrong question. She should have said, "Treat? Should I leave the jerk, walkies?" That would have gotten a good reaction.
So, on Carrie's birthday (happy happy!), she gets a delivery of flowers. This doesn't make her happy. She brings the card, which says "best wishes on your birthday," to breakfast. "It's from Big." Rip it up, advise her friends. "And watch out for the thorns," says Sam. Now the writing and the rhythm get far too Seinfeld-y for my tastes entirely as Char says this is "the grand gesture," and Mir is like, "The grand gesture," and Char is like, yeah, the declaration of love that means it isn't really over, and Mir is like, flowers and a card are the grand gesture? Like, "the grand gesture" might not make it into the lexicon of heartbreak, okay, people? So cut it out. Char's dog starts to worry her purse, and she gets distracted. Mir says "a rose is a rose." Sam adds that jewelry is another story. Car says that this "isn't the grand gesture, it's the vague gesture, which is worse than no gesture at all." Stop saying "gesture," all right? Sam and Mir are like, flowers bad, but Char says "flowers good," and that they're "coo-coo," and takes her doggie home because he's chewing too much. "He's already chewed four pairs of shoes!" They watch her go and are like, "Speaking of coo-coo." She's starting to see who her dog really is, says Carrie. A wiggly little chewing pooping machine.
Carrie smokes at home, staring at her roses. She grabs the phone and calls Big. He snaps on his cell and is all, "Yah!" She's like, "It's me...Carrie. Thank you for the flowers." He said his secretary had her birthday on his calendar. So, his secretary sent the roses? No, she just alerted him to the date. He sent the flowers. Carrie says it was very thoughtful of him to send them. This is not at all awkward, ha ha! Car mentions that Stanford planned a party for her, and Big should stop by. Eeek! She didn't mean to -- it slipped out. And he says he has plans. But he may stop by. And bring someone. So, see ya, maybe. Car hangs up and smacks her forehead. "As if getting older wasn't awkward enough!" It doesn't have to be. But your ex at a party? Well, that doesn't have to be difficult either. But for dramatic purposes, let's hope it is.
Sam and her short dick man meet with the couples counselor, who has a giant store-sized poster of her book, hysterically titled In-To-Me-See. Sam ties as hard as she can to not say what she's thinking; that her man's dick is too small. The session continues, until the In-To-Me-See author says, "Same time week?" Sam can't deal; she snaps: "Your penis is too small! It's just too damn small!" Her man is all, "Your vagina is too big!" He storms out. Sam says she "just needs a big dick." In-To-Me-See Author says, "I hear you!" Heh.
Mir and her talkative guy cuddle, post-coitus. She feels liberated now that she can talk dirty. She loves "putting [her] hands on [his] cock." He loves hearing her say "cock." Mir is all, "Your big, hard cock? Cock, cock, cock! Why did I never say it before?" I have no idea, but let's please not explore why. He's all, what else do you like, and she runs through the list of things: biting his nipples, kissing his balls, and slipping her fingers in his ass. Say what now? That's right. But no. The guy freaks, and turns away.
At Carrie's party, which is at a Middle Eastern restaurant complete with belly dancers and lots of flowing red curtains, Mir retells the story and how she "felt so betrayed" when he freaked. How was she supposed to know she couldn't talk about how he loved having a few fingers up his ass? Girl, I have no idea. Though all the women agree that lots of men like ass play, Stanford assures them that he doesn't like anything up his ass. The women giggle and spit-take. Oh, grow up. Charlotte says she doesn't miss dating, because loves her cute widdle dog so much! Everyone rolls their eyes. Yes, I mean everyone. Carrie calls for another double vodka rocks, bolstering herself for Big's inevitable arrival. And there he is. "Happy birthday, baby," he says charmingly/smarmily. And does Carrie remember Jack? Carrie glows. "Jack? Is your date?" She flings her arms around her neck. How's he been? Bitter since some "bitch dumped" him. "At least she didn't get my money," he hisses. Carrie trills, "Happy birthday to me!" Because never forget, it's all about Carrie. Oh, I'll allow her a birthday amnesty. It's your day, girl! Woo!
Big smirks as a belly dancer dances up close to him, then hollers to Car, "How are you?" She's fine. And Big? Great. Mir leans in and is like, "Why is your ex at your party?" Carrie is all, "He's staying for a lap dance." Stanford hisses that he "can't believe the bastard had the nerve to show up." Big tucks a dollar into the belly dancer's costume. Susan Sharon leans over toward Jack and offers him a pita of baba ghannouj. He turns her down. "Ya don't know what you're missing!" Oh, she's so barking up the wrong tree. Big distributes dollars all around, and Stanford is all, "I think I'm about to lose my couscous." Heh. Susan Sharon prattles on to Jack about her impending divorce and the ups and downs of relationships and not getting enough sleep, but who does, and so forth and so on until Jack asks if she ever shuts the fuck up. She looks aside, and Carrie VOs that she misses her Very Mean Man.
Charlotte comes home, steps in dog poo, and opens her bedroom door to find more poo and the dog destroying her down pillows. Char? Get a crate. Dog proof your house, and WALK THE DOG at least three times a day. Four, if possible. I've been through it. But, because this is television, she gets rid of the dog off-screen, then can never "bring herself to say [she] got rid of the puppy." And, because this is television, the dog goes to live with Susan Sharon and her Very Mean Man, who can now yell "shut up! Shut the fuck up!" at the dog anytime it opens its mouth, which in Jack Russell Terrier-land, is ALL THE LIVELONG DAY. So the dog saved the marriage. Yay!
Post b-day bash, Carrie walks with Big down the sidewalk. She's "older, and none the wiser." He offers her a ride, then cab fare. She refuses. They say goodnight without touching. It's bittersweet. And she knows the one thing she can't say to Big -- that she's still not over him.