Cha. Cha cha. Cha cha. Cha, cha cha, cha cha, cha cha, cha cha cha cha cha cha cha! Xylophone! Bump bump. Splashy bus!
An opening at Charlotte's gallery (featuring the works of painter Ya-El, a lesbian from Brooklyn Heights), is a heady mix of upscale "power lesbians" in sharp suits and expensive purses, and the usual arty hipsters -- "a combustible mix," Carrie VOs. Charlotte is there holding the hand of her new b.f., who owns a restaurant frequented by "second-tier models and the men that buy them salad." His greasy head swivels as a good-looking chick walks by. Miranda's date is a documentary filmmaker she met at a Harvard alumni mixer, and Carrie has Sam on her arm. Sam kvetches that she didn't know the party was "B.Y.O. man." Carrie points out that it's the opening of a LESBIAN painter, and Sam says she thought straight men followed gay women around, "to see what they're going to do." Hee. Sam's man-radar goes off when she sees a hot trainer from her gym whose "squat-thrusts are a-maaay-zing." She gets ready to go over and talk with him, and Carrie instantly gets peevish. You know what, she says? She has a headache. And she's going home. Waah waah waah! Sam breathlessly offers Carrie a Percodan. You have to love a friend who's a walking drugstore. Carrie said she had a headache, not that she was just hit by a car. Sam goes off to "make new friends," and Carrie skips out as well. Not because her head aches. What's aching lies far below her head. Except during certain times. I'm talking about her loins, see.
Carrie arrives at Big's apartment posthaste. They compliment each other on the way they look, then get right down to the good and dirty stuff. Carrie VOs that keeping her recent liaisons with Big a secret from her friends is a great aphrodisiac. She's "never felt more sexy or alive." Yes, isn't hiding the truth hot?
The power lesbians walk in a pack, surveying the art through their cool eyeglass frames. They stop in front of one piece, and one woman announces that she's going to buy it: Painting Number 700. It's a very tattoo/Sailor-Jerry-inspired work: a voluptuous blonde hung on a flaming cross, with a banner that says, "Death Before Dishonor." Roses twist around the bottom. It's cool. I don't love it. Jenny Lynn is a great Philadelphia painter, along with Mark Brozdik. They do more original work. The lesbians argue over who will buy Painting Number 700. One woman says she's buying two. Ding ding ding -- rich lesbian alert, whoop whoop! Char strolls by, pleased to overhear the competitive banter. She's never sold out a show before this, Carrie VOs. Then, not good news: the gallery has run out of champagne. Char heads to the back storeroom to see if she has more and catches her new b.f. in there, making out with the chick he was gawking at earlier. "Hey, relax," he tells her. "We're just kissing." What an ass. Char wrinkles her nose and turns to leave. He hollers, "See ya out there!" And resumes kissing the other girl. What a total ass!
The morning, the girls roam a flea market. Char says she can't believe the sleaze on that guy. Carrie says nonchalantly that "maybe he doesn't consider kissing cheating." Yeah, but if that were true, why wouldn't he have made out right in the open? Oh, right -- that's gross. As is making time with a girl when you're on a date with another. At an opening at her art gallery. Whatever, Carrie. Sam says it was only Char's second date with the guy. Oh, it was? Well, it's still lame. Char "still expect[ed] fidelity." Sam says that "men cheat for the same reason dogs lick their balls -- because they can." And instead of condemning it, maybe women should just accept it. Carrie helpfully points out that women cheat too. Char chirps that it isn't testosterone that drives women, though (uh duh) -- "emotions" do. Oh, Jaysus, I set out to recap a few classic S&TC episodes and end up going back in time to the 1950s. Hello, poodle skirts. Hey there, outdated ideas of What Women Do. Nickel cokes? Nice to see you. Char says she listens to that "little voice inside [her] head that says, 'Mate for life, mate for life.'" Wow, she listens to what the voices inside her head tell her? What a freak. I mean, she has voices inside her head? That's better. I bet I fooled them all! Carrie says that she believes there's a "cheating curve," which slides depending on the person's definition of cheating, and how badly "they themselves want to cheat." Miranda gasps, "That's moral relativism!" Carrie prefers to call it "quantum cheating." Sam says the act of cheating is defined by getting caught; without one, there's no other. What a bunch of philosopher-hos Sam and Carrie are. Carrie should say, yeah, I mean, you all have no idea that I went and fucked Big last night. Therefore, it didn't really happen! But nooo. She's just going to go home and tippy-type away about it.
And, we have Laptop City. "Is cheating the proverbial tree-falling-in-the-forest? What constitutes cheating?"
Sam has a session with the hot trainer from her gym. She listens to him go on about "proper form" and "discipline" and sighs happily. As she stretches her legs out, he asks how she liked it. "You got me all wet...I mean, 'sweaty.'" And yes, same time week.
Char's in her gallery, listening to her lame b.f.'s excuses for making out with that other chick. And Char is the one he "really wants to sleep with," anyway. Oh, well, that makes it all right. Char sees two of the power lesbians walk in and hangs up on him. They came in to pay for the painting. And one of them loves Char's Prada loafers. Of course they do; who doesn't love Prada? Carrie VOs that "power lesbians and their shoes are like Wall Street men and their cigars." Whatever, Carrie. Char asks how long the two PLs have been together. One says, "Were together. Now we're just friends." Char says, "That is so cool!" Don't gush, honey. One of the PL's cell phones rings; it's two other PLs, wanting to meet for drinks. Would Char like to come along? Welll...okay!
They go to G-Spot, a "hot new girl bar." Then, on to dinner at a hot French-fusion place, Luke's, "with a hotter Sapphic chef," then dancing at Love Tunnel. Char has a blast and loves being in a world "where no thought is given to men." Yeah, it's a good world.
Mir walks home from her date with the documentary filmmaker guy, who is going on and on about how the four-hour-long Shoah kicks the ass of Schindler's List. Sure. Then he goes on about how all documentaries kick the ass of all narrative films. Um, okay. In fact, the very IDEA of narrative filmmaking makes him sick. Uch. I have so been on dates with guys like this. They start a rant and nothing, not even the presence of a beautiful woman by their side, can distract them from delivering it. In their minds, nothing is more important than expressing their opinion. In other words, I HATE BORING WINDBAGS. Mir finally kisses him to shut him up. He suggests they go back to his place. Duh!
They start making out. In seconds, he's flicked on the TV and VCR. Where he's got a porno movie all cued up. Bamp chicka bamp bamp! Um, wouldn't asking Miranda how she felt about porn before picking up the remote have been a nice thing to do here? Miranda has no comment and just rolls with it. Hey, she has needs too.
Another date, another make-out session, and another porn video. This time, Mir asks if having porn on while they go at it is really necessary. He offers to turn the sound down if it bothers her. Then he asks that she move her head a little bit to the right so he can see. That's a good girl. I hate this guy.
Carrie is very proud of herself, again, some more, as she has "cooked" for Big. She means that she made fondue. She melted cheese and tore bread into pieces. What, no meat or veg? Oh, right. It's Carrie. They each have one bite, make polite "mmm" noises, then agree that the fondue is awful. Big is all, "Can we go to a restaurant now?" Hee. Carrie says she hasn't told any of her friends that she's seeing Big again. Big says he hasn't told any of his "interested parties" yet either. And "that's a good idea. Let's keep it quiet." Carrie is all, okaaay. Now that she knows he's keeping it quiet, it's not so much fun, is it.
The morning, Carrie does the walk of shame back to her place. I really prefer calling it the "walk of fame." I mean, why be down on yourself just because you got laid. There's no reason. Just be all, yay, I'm walking home after getting some! Whoops, there's Miranda, with a newspaper and coffee. Carrie says she's in the 'hood getting a teeth cleaning. And how's the documentary filmmaker guy? Still addicted to porn, says Mir. She thought it was "sexy at first, but now it's borderline humiliating." Yeah, I wouldn't stand for it as a regular part of the lovemaking routine (and I realize the implications of the word "routine" -- just relax) either. It's too cheesy, for one thing. And, like Mir says, isn't the real thing enough? Car says it's probably "just force of habit." Mir says it feels like he's cheating on her with the girls in the tapes while he has sex with her. Jeez. And you're still doing the guy? Mir comments that Car is "kind of dressed up for the dentist," and Car says, "Laundry day!" They part ways, and Carrie feels bad for lying to Miranda. Then she feels bad for "cheating on [Mir] and all [Carrie's] friends" by seeing Big behind everyone's backs. But doesn't it make it more fun that way? More sexy and alive-feeling? That's what you said at the beginning of the show!
Sam makes out with her trainer guy. She admits to feeling like a cliché, and bets he sleeps with all his clients. He says, "No, but it's always been a fantasy." He suggests they shower first.
Behind the fogged glass, he compliments Sam's legs. She says if she knew she was going to be doing "this," she would have shaved them. He offers to shave them for her. And he "keeps on shaving."
In Carrie's kitchen, the girls make themselves martinis. Sam asks what's the dealie-o with the guys wanting to shave your pubes all the livelong day, now. Mir says it's because men want "a little girl." Sam says it was more like being "branded," since the trainer shaved her pubes in the shape of a lightning bolt. Oh, man. Sam pontificates about how you used to be able to let your pubic hair "grow wild," but now "so much attention" is paid to that area, and there's even a whole industry dedicated to the maintenance of these things. Yup. This is so before they mentioned the Brazilian bikini wax, yes? The best thing I ever read about one of those was in Vogue, when a writer described getting one done and never realizing before the elaborate "pleating" that existed in her pubic area. God, "pleats"! That is so great. Carrie is still in the bathroom and asks that the two women get the door. It's Char, gussied up to go out with her new PL friends later. Sam asks if they know Char is straight. Char is all, "Can a gay woman and a straight woman be friends?" Sam says, "You can't move to Wonder Woman Island and not expect to go native." Hee. Does an invisible plane and a truth lasso come with that move? Mir says Char will be "leading them on; a big clit tease." They move toward her seriously, ominously. Then Carrie emerges from the bathroom. It's her new diaphragm. It's stuck. And one of them has to help her get it out. Mir tells Char, the lesbian, to get in there. Of course Sam ends up doing it. And she just had her nails done!
They stride through Times Square, before MTV and Disney moved in. Char asked who the diaphragm was for. Carrie spills it: Big. And her friends lash out. Big was such an asshole to her! What, does Carrie think things will be different now? So, they're just having casual sex? Char gets the trump statement in: "Even [Char's] not that naive!" Carrie begins to stomp off, no longer "in the mood for a movie." Her friends call after her and ask her to wait.
Later that night, Carrie paces in her apartment. She knows her friends are right. Where is this thing with her and Big really going? Well, if the posters on the forums get their way, a big poofy wedding is in the works.
Char is at a brunch at the "queen bee" power lesbian's social hive. She's the ex-wife of a TV producer, "sits on the board of about a hundred charities," and has a home in Telluride. Char should come out for Easter! Char would love to. She meets the woman who owns the palatial home (and all the larger-than-life-sized statues of Diana the huntress), who finally comes out and asks, before anyone gets on a plane to Telluride, if Charlotte is indeed gay. Well, no. But Char loves being around all these smart, strong women! She really feels a bond with them, in her spirit. And she's wasted so much time and energy on men. The queen bee nods her head and says that's all very nice, but if Char "isn't going to eat pussy, [she isn't] a dyke." Yeah. It's definitely just one of those things.
Miranda is having acrobatic sex with her documentary filmmaker, mirroring the hot-hot-hot porno action on the TV screen just a few hot throbbing inches away. He tells her to "hold it," then rewinds. Mir bursts out that "this is not a synchronized event!" She gives him an ultimatum: the videos or her. He says that "it isn't that easy." He's "known [Miranda] only a few weeks; [he's] had relationships with some of those girls for years now." Mir says, thank god, that she "is SO OUT OF HERE." Good for you, Mir.
Sam's taking a sauna after a workout. The woman sitting to her gives her the once-over, then leaps to her feet and glares angrily at Sam. She bursts out, "That asshole!" Sam sees that the other woman has been "branded" too -- or, as Carrie VOs, "Lightning does sometimes strike twice." Heh.
Carrie and Big dance cheek-to-cheek at some swanky old bar. A big band is playing "The Way You Wear Your Hat." Carrie decides to have The Relationship Conversation. So, are she and Big officially a couple? You know, going steady? Officially for real, double pinkie swear, no take-backs? Big says "every moment of [his] life is for real, baby." Yeah, baby, YEAH. I can't wait for the new Austin Powers movie to come out. I just love that big, broad humor. And the "baby" thing. Carrie asks why they broke up. Big's all, you tell me! Carrie says Big never said what she wanted to hear. She VOs a lot of things about how she thinks he can never love her (or anyone) as much as he loves himself, but only says out loud that she's "just afraid." Chicken, you mean. Or maybe a-scared. Big says, "officially," that he missed her. She asks teasingly, "Did [he] cry?" No, but he did "listen to a lot of Sinatra." That admission wouldn't make me quite as happy as it does Carrie. Like, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? A lot of Sinatra? What, did he eat a lot of spaghetti, too? Whatever! But Carrie just VOs that she and Big are back together, and they whirl around the dance floor dreamily, whoop de doo.