Credits. Cha, cha-cha, cha-cha. Cha, cha-cha, cha-cha. Cha, cha-cha, cha-cha, cha-cha, whee, go xylophone! Splashy bus! Ohhh, the five-dollar tutu, she is ruined. Cha cha cha.
We open with some Vivaldi -- Rites of Spring -- playing beautifully. It's a beautiful day in New York City. We pan from a giant diamond down to Charlotte, loaded down in shopping bags (Manolo Blahnik, drool drool), as she cheerily hails a cab. Once one arrives, a woman steps up and barely peevishly says, "Miss?" Char turns, beams, and says, "I'm sorry. Did you want this cab?" And then gives it to her. Carrie VOs that New York is a perfect place to be engaged.
And to be enraged -- Carrie stomps toward the girls' favorite restaurant, in a horrible white smock-y top thing. Why? Why the voluminous smocks? Fitted, fitted, fitted! Fitted always looks better! Big looks sloppy. Anyway, Carrie stomps and stomps. Then a businessman rudely bumps shoulders with her. Here we go. I love New York City. One reason why? People know how to walk down the streets there and not bump into one another. Yes, it's crowded and chaotic and at times mayhem -- almost anarchy, even. But in New York, I have never had a screaming match with some prick because they were too fucking lazy to move slightly out of my way. I have in Philly! There are times I curse at people walking three abreast like it's their own personal sidewalk. But in New York, if you bump into someone on the sidewalk, you either are the biggest asshole ever or from out of town. Now, I don't give people the finger anymore. It's not smart. But when I'm crossing in the crosswalk on the green and you turn in front of me with your car? You will hear me yell at you. Pedestrians have the right of way, fuckface behind the wheel. And Suit-Man? It's not that hard to move a few inches out of the way when a person is coming at you. So, Carrie gets bumped by some businessman a-hole, and screams at him. "Oh, you're SO busy!" What I hate the most is when a car almost runs me down and I scream at them, and THEN they stop. Like, you wouldn't stop when you see me, but if I correct you? Then you have all the time in the world to put on the brakes and try and dish it back out. That's when I start looking for something to throw, or a cop. Anyway. Lunch with the girls.
Carrie and Charlotte both have news to share with their friends. Char goes first: A honking diamond ring Harry gave her last week. It's designed after the ring Richard Burton gave Elizabeth Taylor. I think I'm jealous. I have a white slip that's like the one she wore in Butterfield 8, but the resale value on it is pathetic. Everyone squeals and oohs. Samantha says this ring is even nicer then her first, and Char winces a bit. Dude, stop wincing. You scored two honking rings. Unless that means I'll never get one, since she's gotten two! Or maybe it's that I've only dated musicians or writers and they have no money. Yeah, that's it.
Then Carrie gives her news: Berger broke up with her via Post-It (tm 3M). Carrie even brought it with her for the girls to read ("I'm sorry, I can't, please don't hate me"). Sam says the "motherfucker" is "concise." Word to both. Carrie recalls the days when it was gauche to break up over the phone. Miranda remembers being dumped by a doorman: "Sorry, [he] isn't coming down. Ever." Sam pines for a doorman. So sensitive. Carrie isn't going to call, not even an "angry answering machine message," then concludes that the relationship "was a complete waste of time." Char says no, and that "everything happens for a reason." Mir says, "That is such bullshit." Yes. But mainly it's annoying that Char feels compelled to put such a sunny spin on every goddamn little thing. It's okay to not look for the silver lining just yet. But Char re-tells the disgusting story about hooking up with her divorce lawyer after kicking Trey to the curb and now she's so happ-eee. See the ring? Carrie slaps the Post-It over Char's finger and says, "Paper covers rock."
Sam and Carrie walk towards Sam's after-lunch hair appointment. Ooh, I think Sam is wearing an Hermes belt. It's white, and studded? I want one. I want an Hermes studded belt. I just broke up with my boyfriend, okay? I need some retail therapy. Or just a gift. Maybe some scented candles? Carrie decides to spend "as much time mourning the relationship as he did ending it." She pouts for two seconds, then says she's "over it." Now how about she and Sam hit the town for a fabulous evening. May I suggest Dick's Bar in the East Village? Of course, they won't get laid. But they will have fun. Samantha has another idea. Bed. It's a new club. The invite says, "Come to Bed." Carrie ooohs.
And the post-lunch typed question: "Do we search for lessons to lessen the pain?" Oh, yes. My most-current ex-b.f. could neatly encapsulate the reasons his last relationships ended. I wonder if I'll ever hear the reasons why ours did. I mean, we're still friends, but we don't have the hindsight thing really going on for us yet.
Sam prattles on to Jerry that she told TRL that the Absolut Hunk wanted to do some modeling, and they said they wanted him "ASAP. Gucci, YSL, D&G, take your pick." B.A.R.F. Wouldn't TRL want some Old Navy cargos and an Avril tie? Or some red chaps a la Xtina? And isn't he a little, well, seasoned for TRL? Jerry says he'd rather wear jeans and a faded army green tank. Oof, Mama like. Sam is fine with it too, since he looks good like that. He goes, "How'd I get hooked up with such an understanding girlfriend." He hugs Sam to him, and her eyes start darting around like minnows in a stream. What'd he say? A what-friend? Girl-who? Hooked up with the whaaa? Sam takes a few steps away from him and says that since he's so hot right now, maybe it'd be best for him to say he's "still looking" for the right person. Jerry is all, "Samantha." Sam wants him to stay mum on their whole dealy, okay? And she insists on some Dior sunglasses, because "if the kids watching MTV don't see you wearing something they can't afford, how can they look up to you?" She slides them on his face, and perhaps feeling more comfortable with his eyes obscured, she smiles.
Charlotte languishes in front of her closet. So many padded hangers. Mommie Dearest would be thrilled. But then she comes to her old wedding dress, hanging among the slips, and she fades a bit. Dude -- wouldn't that be in storage? Well, if she keeps a Christmas tree in the place, why not a wedding gown.
Mir, holding Brady, tries to beg her way out of going to Bed. She thinks hot club openings are for "hot childless people." And she's feeling not so hot at the moment. Carrie badgers her to make it -- "no excuses!" And so Mir hangs up, sighs, and heads to her closet with more than a little trepidation. Towards her No Excuses jeans. Wow, I don't think I've ever seen those on a live person before. And I find it so hilarious that a smart woman like Miranda would wear jeans endorsed by Gennifer Flowers and people of that ilk.
They fit. They're a little Jordache-esque, but still look good. Nice dark rinse, smooth zip. She wears them to the club with a black tank top and a nice narrow double-wrapped brown belt. Mir is ecstatic to be able to fit into her skinny jeans. "The last time they fit was in 1985, and that was because [she] had mono." Sam, in a slashed and sewn New York Dolls shirt -- and I have and wear a pink New York Dolls tank top ALL THE TIME, it's one of my favorite summery tanks -- says that Mir has a "hot ass." Mir says she's never taking her skinny jeans off again, so may she wear them to Charlotte's wedding? Char makes a face, and says she's sorry she ever made a big deal about her second engagement, particularly since they were all there for the first time around. So she wants this wedding to be more low-key. Mir asks, "No denim?" Not even just that. No bridesmaids. Char hopes the girls don't mind. Not even a bit. They all whoop and cheer.
Up into Bed go the girls. Beds are all over the place. Subtle. The staff wears sleep masks and PJs. Mir says that if she had known it would be this authentic, she would have brought her bite guard. I have a bite guard! Did you know that grinding your teeth is called "bruxism"? That would be an awesome Scrabble word score. Wow, I guess I really am Miranda, sans kid. Char asks for a bed for four, and the hostess says they're all out. Then Sam says they're on the VIP list, and the hostess scampers off to get a bed ready. Mir heads off to the ladies' room to stare at her ass in the mirror, and gets bumped into a bed containing a handsome, if nebbishy, guy. He pulls out all the lines ("I didn't even have to buy you dinner.... It isn't often I have such a beautiful woman in bed with me.") and Mir decides to stay for a bit, if he moves over off her side. Go 'randa, it's your birthday!
Carrie, Sam, and Char sit on a bed. Which is right to a bed with three men on it -- but one of them is Berger's friend. Carrie panics, but she can't just ignore them, since it'll "get back to Berger" that she was "acting childish." So she goes over and is all, hi! They're all, hi, Berger's girlfriend! Is Berger with you? Mmm. No, not exactly. They broke up. This morning. Ohh. Well, says Berger's friend, he knew that they had "lots of problems." Yeah. That. And, says Carrie, he was "terrible in bed." Oh, snap. She just did that. She went there. To his friends. Well, bye! She walks off, and the three dudes instantly lean in and confer. Carrie strolls back to the bed with her friends on it and says, "Remember that nasty answering machine message? I just left it with his friend." Sam says it's understandable, since Carrie's suffering from "Post-It traumatic stress disorder." So Carrie goes back to do damage control and say she didn't really mean it. Berger was great in bed. Fireworks. Kablooie. Every time. She just said that cause she's hurting right now. And she doesn't want to drag the friend into this, but Berger broke up with her via a Post-It. The friend, Billy, just nods. Carrie is amazed at his underwhelmed reaction. Well, how was he supposed to break up? Face-to-face? YES, says Carrie. Another friend says, "Yeah, right." Because women get "all psycho." Carrie proceeds to go all psycho on the three hapless, clueless, luckless men as to why women go psycho. The guys just stare at her. Then she goes back to her girlfriends, downs the rest of her champagne, and makes them all leave.
Back at 'randa's bed, her fella sweet-talks her. She's so pretty! How is that possible that she doesn't have a boyfriend? Well. She's got a baby-father. But she says she has no idea why she doesn't have a boyfriend. But Mir is so hot! Her friends come to collect her, and she has to split, but she thanks the fella for rubbing her the right way.
Carrie and Co. head out onto the sidewalk, and instantly Carrie's lured in by the smell of marijuana smoke, exhaled by three Williamsburgian hipster nerd types. Yeah, my ex-b.f. started smoking cigarettes again after we ended it. Me, I just started talking to strangers in bars at greater length. Then, I run in the opposite direction when they grab my hands and say kiss me -- blargh. Weed is what Carrie needs right now. "I need cloudiness. Let's get high!" Oh my GOD, another A episode. I swear, if this show speaks to me another week in a row, I'm going to freak out. Sam says she would get high, too, but she can't call her dealer since he's on the Cape. Wow, I almost went to Cape Cod this weekend! Good god, I can't stand it. So Mir, feeling confident in her sexy sexy jeans, goes up to the high, giggling hipster nerds and asks them for the hookup. They tell her they're "going around the corner" to a bar, and all the girls giggle in anticipation.
The girls go into a dive bar, a cross between Black Betty and Dick's Bar. You know: red lighting, divey, a cheap hole in the wall that feel like home. So great. Mir goes off to make the connection, Sam slaps a $20 on the bar to buy drinks and get the bartender to change the channel to TRL (which wouldn't be on Saturday night, but whatever), and Char and Carrie look at a bachelorette party wistfully. Char says she wishes she hadn't been married before. Oh good grief -- do you want your hymen to grown back, too? Ain't. Gonna. Happen. Then the bachelorette party near them spills over, as a bridesmaid asks them to take a picture of their gathering. Carrie hands Char the camera, then tells the party girls Char just got engaged to a great guy, and look at the rock! The party girls ooh and ah, then tell Char to get in the picture. Wow, what cool party girls. They're so nice. They babble on and ask all sorts of questions of Char, and Char is happy to oblige. Carrie smiles and backs out of the conversation, happy to have made Char happy.
Mir goes and talks to her weed nerds. The bespectacled one looks around for the dealer, but he isn't in there. Mir doesn't mind. She's happy just to be talking to dudes that think she's hot. She wiggles around in her skinny jeans, and the three hipster nerds argue over who's going to buy her a drink first. Gentlemen! You can all buy her a drink!
Okay, TRL is on. Lala does the intro for Smith Jared! Give it up! WOOOOO! WOOOOO! God, I hate TRL. No, I don't. I hate the WOOOOOs. Jerry says the hunk thing has been good so far, and no, he's "still looking" for a girlfriend. Lala asks again, he's not seeing anyone? Jerry says "no one special," and Sam flinches yet again. Wow, she doesn't like "girlfriend," and she doesn't like "no one special." I kind of feel her on that -- the phrase to use is nothing serious. That leaves a wide open field. So, Sam kisses the Guido on the stool to hers. The Guido's girlfriend and her three scary Hysterical Blindness-esque posse of mean girls come up and say they're going to kick Sam's ass and "slap the shit" out of her. So, Carrie and Sam scream and run away. Dude, where's the giant can of hair spray? Whip it out and beat the "city girls" with it! Once out on the sidewalk, Carrie remarks that the evening is turning into a "total bust." Not so fast. Sam scored a joint with her $20, too. So, they light up right in the street. Ah, memories. Sam takes a big hit and says, in that tight holding-in-smoke voice, "Fucking men!' Carrie takes a hit and says, also sounding choked, "Men are bullshit!" They smoke and talk about how being someone's girlfriend never leads anywhere good. Then Jerry calls, and Sam strolls away to find better reception on her cell phone. Carrie puffs quickly on the joint and VOs to herself that today will only be the day she broke up with Berger, waah. Then the cops roll up and arrest her for smoking weed. Shit.
Carrie's in the cop car, and her three friends stand on the sidewalk and plead with the cop. Mir's a lawyer and a mother, and her friend is very law-abiding. Except for the weed thing. Char explains that she just broke up with her boyfriend. Sam finishes, "With a Post-It." The cop says, "That didn't happen." Carrie knocks on the window and shows him the Post-It. The cop says wow, then knocks her offense down to smoking in a bar. Sam pleads, "Come on, can't you let her off?" The cop deadpans, "I'm sorry, I can't. Don't hate me." I laugh out loud for a while.
The girls dive into an ice cream sundae. Carrie's totally high, still, and giggles at the fact that today will be remembered as the day she got arrested for "smoking a doobie. Ha ha ha, I said doobie!" Wow, I hope I never have a day like that. When I do smoke the doobage, or the diggety dank, or the weed, I laugh when I remember how Kool-Aid used to jump through a wall when people got thirsty, and just saying "ohhh YEEEAH!" makes me giggle for minutes. Char says some horrible thing about how Berger's Post-It was her "get out of jail free" card, and Sam says Char is killing her buzz. Yeah, Char, and Carrie wouldn't have even wanted the weed if Berger hadn't have dumped her! Ya idjit. Oh yeah! Carrie says she remembers what it was she learned from Berger, but then it's gone in a weed haze. Poof, there it was. Poof, there it was. Mir says if she hadn't met Steve and had Brady, she never would have had no time to eat and lost the weight to fit into her jeans. And Char says she wants bridesmaids after all! But not the matching dresses. The girls all giggle as the day that started with a split ends with a banana split.
Okay, TRL is on. Lala does the intro for Smith Jared! Give it up! WOOOOO! WOOOOO! God, I hate TRL. No, I don't. I hate the WOOOOOs. Jerry says the hunk thing has been good so far, and no, he's "still looking" for a girlfriend. Lala asks again, he's not seeing anyone? Jerry says "no one special," and Sam flinches yet again. Wow, she doesn't like "girlfriend," and she doesn't like "no one special." I kind of feel her on that -- the phrase to use is nothing serious. That leaves a wide open field. So, Sam kisses the Guido on the stool to hers. The Guido's girlfriend and her three scary Hysterical Blindness-esque posse of mean girls come up and say they're going to kick Sam's ass and "slap the shit" out of her. So, Carrie and Sam scream and run away. Dude, where's the giant can of hair spray? Whip it out and beat the "city girls" with it! Once out on the sidewalk, Carrie remarks that the evening is turning into a "total bust." Not so fast. Sam scored a joint with her $20, too. So, they light up right in the street. Ah, memories. Sam takes a big hit and says, in that tight holding-in-smoke voice, "Fucking men!' Carrie takes a hit and says, also sounding choked, "Men are bullshit!" They smoke and talk about how being someone's girlfriend never leads anywhere good. Then Jerry calls, and Sam strolls away to find better reception on her cell phone. Carrie puffs quickly on the joint and VOs to herself that today will only be the day she broke up with Berger, waah. Then the cops roll up and arrest her for smoking weed. Shit.
Carrie's in the cop car, and her three friends stand on the sidewalk and plead with the cop. Mir's a lawyer and a mother, and her friend is very law-abiding. Except for the weed thing. Char explains that she just broke up with her boyfriend. Sam finishes, "With a Post-It." The cop says, "That didn't happen." Carrie knocks on the window and shows him the Post-It. The cop says wow, then knocks her offense down to smoking in a bar. Sam pleads, "Come on, can't you let her off?" The cop deadpans, "I'm sorry, I can't. Don't hate me." I laugh out loud for a while.
The girls dive into an ice cream sundae. Carrie's totally high, still, and giggles at the fact that today will be remembered as the day she got arrested for "smoking a doobie. Ha ha ha, I said doobie!" Wow, I hope I never have a day like that. When I do smoke the doobage, or the diggety dank, or the weed, I laugh when I remember how Kool-Aid used to jump through a wall when people got thirsty, and just saying "ohhh YEEEAH!" makes me giggle for minutes. Char says some horrible thing about how Berger's Post-It was her "get out of jail free" card, and Sam says Char is killing her buzz. Yeah, Char, and Carrie wouldn't have even wanted the weed if Berger hadn't have dumped her! Ya idjit. Oh yeah! Carrie says she remembers what it was she learned from Berger, but then it's gone in a weed haze. Poof, there it was. Poof, there it was. Mir says if she hadn't met Steve and had Brady, she never would have had no time to eat and lost the weight to fit into her jeans. And Char says she wants bridesmaids after all! But not the matching dresses. The girls all giggle as the day that started with a split ends with a banana split.