Credits. Cha, cha-cha, cha-cha. Cha, cha-cha, cha-cha. Cha, cha-cha, cha-cha, cha-cha, whee, go xylophone! Splashy bus! Cha cha cha.
Carrie's first VO of the evening makes me certain the rest of this, the second episode of the last ever season of Sex & The City, will be too cutesy-poo for me to stomach: "The only thing better than the first few bites of a great burger are those first few dates, with someone named Berger." Hork. We zoom past an awning that reads "RESTAURANT" and see Carrie and Berger inside, chowing down on -- guess what? Right. Burgers. Why couldn't his name have been Bealty, or Tyunamilt, or Pirogue? Berger is just so on the nose. I know, I'm so mean, hating on the puns the second ep in, but it's Sunday night and I've got my hate-ah hat on. There, I told you I'm hating. Do I get points for honesty?
Berger tells a story about how his own mother heckled him at one of his readings at Barnes and Noble, and then tenderly wipes away a blob of ketchup on Carrie's lip. Aww. Then she takes another massive bite and girlishly wipes the corners of her mouth. Berger says huskily, "You like your beef." Hork. Carrie VOs about how everything is "fresh" and "new" and "foreplay," and HORK. Okay, reason one why this show is ceasing production: Even a dog living in the apartment of someone who's watched this show more than once knows that not every romantic undertaking can be fresh and new FOREVER.
Carrie VOs that "even a trip to Bed Bath & Beyond can become an ecstatic errand." Hey, I have the second shower curtain they showed in my bathroom. I feel so, um, like a person who owns a shower curtain. My mom owns the map one. It's really out of date. It has Burma on it and shit. Berger and Carrie debate the merits of having a fish shower curtain. Berger says he has the map one, but "China is covered in mold." Maybe that's how SARS spread.
And the "first kisses" are hot, according to Carrie's VO. The couple smooch fiercely in a restaurant, as the staff put up chairs on tables and turn out the lights. Carrie says she wants Berger in her "bed, bath and beyond."
Then, cut to them having very dull sex. The most unhot sex I've ever seen. Missionary pose, with smallish thrusts. Carrie winches up her forehead and stares at the ceiling as if she's looking for the drops of rain, but is actually being hit by air conditioner condensation that falls on you when you're walking down the sidewalk. It's not pretty.
The four girlfriends convene at Raw, a "hot" restaurant where they don't cook the food above 118 degrees. Miranda is aghast at the idea of eating "raw vegetables" and uncooked vegan non-dairy food. "People! The emperor has no oven!" Carrie giggles, then stifles a yawn. Sorry, she was up having totally boring sex the night before. Sam asks, "Did you finally bugger Berger?" Yes. She had him on a roll. His buns were magnificent. Anyway. Char applauds Carrie's achievement. But everyone looks askance when Carrie says that the sex was "fine" and that she "really [doesn't ]want to talk about it."
The girls go to their table; it looks like Mir and Carrie are wearing variations of the '30s-esque Marc Jacobs looks from winter 2002, while Char has on this heinous Victorian bustier which displays her tan lines to great disadvantage. Not only is Sam drinking an appletini (gag), she has on this strange purple fur throw. Very strange looks on the girls. Everyone stares at Carrie, waiting. Carrie peruses the menu, then says she doesn't know what the problem was; they chat well in restaurants, and the kisses are fine. There was just "no sexual chemistry." Char says that "if the kisses were fine, the sex will eventually be good." Carrie says it was "just quiet." Mir asks how quiet. "So quiet [Carrie] heard the M11 bus. [She] heard the doors open, [she] heard people get on, people getting off..." Sam says, "At least someone was getting off," then locks targets on their hot waiter, who's brought over an amuse bouche for the table. He's a handsome, model-y looking blond. Very Levi's low-rise jeans print campaign. Where's his trucker hat, I want to know. If I go to Black Betty weekend, will I see him there? Probably. Him or someone like him. Sam says she'd like him to "amuse [her] bouche." He was hot, and the soup he brought was not. Mir calls it "lawn in a bowl." I can't believe I'm already so bored, just seven minutes in.
Char asks that her friends put down their menus, because she has something important to say. Sam can't stop staring at their waiter's ass. Carrie clanks a cocktail glass, and after shots of each of the girls, Char says she's "becoming a Jew." One more round of reaction shots, then Mir says, "What?!" Char says she can "feel you reacting." I can feel myself aging. I can hear the herbs in my garden growing. It's just that much of a non-event, this announcement. Char says she's "very happy with [her] decision," and that "tomorrow [she's] meeting with the rabbi." Harry makes her laugh, and she can be herself with him (though Mir points out that herself is Episcopalian), and that it's the "most exciting sex [she's] ever had." Carrie says, "Mazel tov."
Cut to a pizza parlor. Carrie and Mir chow down, with Mir murmuring, "Now this is food. And the best part is," she's got TiVo recording all her favorite programs. Carrie says, "You've dumped Steve-o for TiVo." TiVo is an amazing invention; it's really taught me a lot. I'm working on a story called "Lessons TiVo Has Taught Me," which include being selective, learning to let go, when to dump shit you know you don't really need, and really focusing on something. When I first got TiVo, I felt so liberated; I was forever freed from commercials, and no longer a slave to the delayed instant gratification of watching the news live. I can now watch a half-hour show in twenty minutes by zapping the ads, but now if I watch TV and am on the internet at the same time, I know I'm missing a lot. So, because of TiVo, I choose carefully and know when to move on. It's changed me. It's that fucking good, y'all. Mir says TiVo also "surprises [her] with things [she] might like, like Jules and Mimi, on BBC America." I don't do that feature. I look sometimes at "TiVo Suggests," and it's always something wack like Maury or COPS. Just because I'm hooked on Cheaters and will grab any talk show that has goth or punk rock make-unders doesn't mean I like Maury and COPS, goddammit. Carrie goes back to whining about her tepid sex. "There was no rrrrr, no throw-down. It was just a slowdown." Mir says that Carrie's "expectations were too high. From now on, people should tell it how it is. First-time sex, tricky. Vegan uncooked ravioli, kindergarten paste." Mir's getting all my favorite lines this ep.
Back in Carrie's apartment, she steps out of the shower and starts writing about "sexpectations. Maybe, once we're out of our thirties, we shouldn't call it dating. We should call it 'Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop'... Why is it always something? Unless you're in a problem-free relationship with TiVo."
Lights up on Mir, at home, on the couch in pajamas, cruising through her TiVo menu. She still has her audio function on. My Ben hates the ping-pong sound. I love the deep timpani you get if you try to navigate where there's no more room to go. I just fucking love my TiVo so much. Mir has not a lot on her TiVo, just The Daily Show (I love it, grab it all the time), Crossfire (I call that The Yelling Show), Poirot (never seen it), What Not To Wear (love it, can't wait for the new season), and Mir's fave, Jules and Mimi. She gasps in anticipation and says, "Hellew." She fast-forwards the ads, saying "shutup, shutup, shutup, shutup," then happily settles in to watch hot Brits get it on.
Char perkily navigates her way through a synagogue, then gets the door slammed in her face twice when she announces that she's considering switching to the Jewish faith.
Harry thinks it is so hot that Char even tried, he tries to fuck her right then and there, and then clues her in that TPTB will try to reject her three times to test her resolve. Oh, those Jews! So shrewd. And they run Hollywood. Just kidding, don't send me hate mail. It dawns on Char via Carrie's VO that the rabbis were "playing hard to get. They were Rules rabbis!" Char smiles and says she "can play that game. [She] invented that game." She takes off her pearls and heads over to Harry. "No man rejects Charlotte York!"
Mir, with a big bowl of ice cream, settles in once again for a snuggle with her newly commercial-free television that only shows what she wants to see. Ahh, TiVo. I love you. Magda walks up and says she thinks she did something bad. She "sat on" the ergonomic TiVo remote, and now there are no programs recorded. Mir freaks out. "No no NO no no!!" I'm so glad that hasn't happened to me.
Carrie sits by the phone, willing it to ring. Finally, it does. It's Berger. He's sorry he hasn't called earlier. They make cute banter for a bit; then she asks him to come over. Cut to more tepid sex. Cue the sounds of the M11 bus.
Carrie and Sam stalk a lingerie store. Sam says flatly, "Dump him. Fuck me badly once, shame on you, fuck me badly twice, shame on me." Carrie squinches her face. It looks like she's wearing a nurse's uniform. Carrie says she doesn't want to dump him, and "aren't we a little old to jump to the dump?" Yes, we are. But don't let age stop you from making mistakes. That's what experience is for. Sam says to the saleswoman that she's looking for something "to make a guy come in his pants the second he sees me." The saleswoman says, "Got it," and is off. Carrie asks if that look is for someone in particular, or just a general request. Sam says it's for the hot waiter from Raw. She's "going to fuck him tonight, but he doesn't know it yet!" Carrie says she wants to talk to Berger about the bad, boring sex they've been having. Sam advises against it, since that can "be a downer." She then illustrates what kind of downer it will be with a drooping pinkie, and says the only kind of talk that should happen in bed is the dirty kind of talk. Carrie says she can't do that unless she's been drinking. Aren't we a little old to be that uptight and puerile? And aren't we kidding ourselves, a little? I thought Carrie was supposed to be glib. It then dawns on Carrie that maybe -- just maybe -- this boring sex has been, in Berger's book, good! Maybe he likes his sex dull and flavorless! Carrie then impulse-buys some slutty lingerie and pink marabou-trimmed mules. Oh, boy.
Mir is on the phone with the TiVo tech support staff. Thank god, after a harrowing set-up process, I have never had to call. TiVo was a bitch to set up, but after that, it's been perfect. Metaphor? No. Reality. Mir yells into her phone: "I think you're not listening to me, I shut off the system for ten minutes and NOTHING IS HAPPENING! I'm sorry. I'm upset. I'm just used to coming home to something good! I DID THAT ALREADY!" She points the remote behind her and gets that boingy timpani sound, which is TiVo for "an exercise in futility."
Friday night date with Berger. Carrie is wearing her lingerie and tells Berger that he "looks hot" in his blue button-down shirt. He looks at her funny. Is she serious? Yes. She quickly orders two-for-one margaritas.
Char brings kosher wine to the rabbi, who slams the door in her face a third time. She knocks again, only to have the rabbi's wife tell her that her husband can't see her. Char says she thinks he can, then barges right in, announces that she's thirty-seven years old and "reproductively challenged," and she's waited twenty years to find this Jew she fell in love with, and she doesn't have time to play these games! Then she sees that she barged right in on Friday night services. The rabbi says, "All right! You want to be a Jew, you have to take a rest!" Because it's almost the Sabbath, the "day of rest." Char takes a seat to "watch and learn." Amen. She actually says "amen."
Sam is at Raw, hoping to fuck the hot waiter. Of course, every other woman there has the same goal. It's quite a low moment for Sam. She's lumped in with all the other horndog women. She's no longer special, she just one of the herd. It's a damn shame.
Mir comes home late, apologizing to Steve and Brady. Steve said the TiVo guy called and had to reschedule, but he poked around and fixed it for her. She pulls up the menu and sees Jules and Mimi and Biography waiting for her. She blurts out, "I love you! For fixing that for me!" Steve's face lights up, then falls, then he runs out to "a dinner thing." Mir is disappointed.
Back at Raw, the masses of horny women waiting to bag the hot waiter are dropping like flies. One by one, they push away from the table and file out, until only Sam and one other horny woman are left. Sam sips her noxious mushroom tea and tells the hottie waiter that she's fine for now, while the other horndog orders a raw key lime custard. As the waiter departs, Sam crosses the room and says that she doesn't know who she's dealing with. So can Sam buy her dinner and she can take the raw dessert home instead of the hot waiter? Horndog agrees. Score one for Sam. One new low.
Carrie and Berger arrive home from their date, drunk. "Drunkety drunk drunk," VOs Carrie. They bob out of the cab, weave onto the sidewalk, and make out. She is a "sex columnist," remember! Hope they don't barf!
Carrie makes a drunken display of herself, showing Berger her lingerie while unable to work the zipper on her skirt, and hitting him in the head with her shoe as she tries to don the marabou ones she just bought. Then she slapstickily wipes out. He slurs, "You okay?" before passing out.
Sam bones her hottie waiter. They go through myriad positions. They even put a chair on the bed. Why would you put a chair on a bed? After they're done, Hottie Waiter says that Sam "didn't have to order all that shit," since he "was ready to go home with [her] last Tuesday." Sam orders that he "get down there and make it up to [her]." He does. She makes an I'm Getting Oral Sex Face and some cartoon-y noises, and here's reason number two why this show can't go on forever: This shit gets old.
Carrie wakes up, with the noise of the M11 bus in her ear. She realizes that she and Berger never got it on the night before. Like the song goes, "It's now or never." Berger rolls over and on top of Carrie, and they fumble their way towards ecstasy. Except, not. Berger pulls away and says he doesn't know what's wrong, and he "sucks" and that people have "told [him he's] good at this." Carrie says, "We're so good everywhere else!" Berger says, "We gotta make the bed more like a restaurant." He walks away, and Carrie calls after him, "Are you coming back?" He does. Carrie says, "What if we're just not good together in bed?" Berger says, "Don't say that...we should be smokin', not chokin'!" I should be joking, but I'm horking. This whole ep feels like it hasn't moved forward at all. Berger finally notices her "very sexy shoes," and Carrie puts them on for him. Then they admit that they wanted to talk to each other about these things, and that they should have talked, and they will promise to always talk to each other in the future about such important matters. Then he pounces on her, and they kiss passionately, and the other marabou shoe hits the floor.