Alex Richmond
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Carrie's apartment is a whirlwind of shoe boxes and pink tulle. She's packing. Everything must go. To Paris. The credits begin with, "Guest starring Chris Noth," and I think I hear a fleet of car alarms going off. Nope -- just the screams of all the legions of Big fans watching. Carrie VOs that some outfits have waited their whole lives for their debut. She tears the dry-cleaner wrap off a Gaultier-looking black and white striped skirt and top, with a honking black and white striped flower in the center. Love! Carrie, in a cardigan and big black granny panties, moves boxes and selects shoes and pushes the button on her answering machine: Alek, admonishing her to stop packing and come to Paris already, since they have clothes there. Beep. Miranda, who is not calling to ask her not to go, like she has a billion times already, but to tell her that their dinner reservations are at 6 PM, making them old ladies. But that's the only way Carrie will make her plane. Oh, and "merci-beau-please don't go." Beep.
More answering machine fun. Hi, Carrie. It's Big. Carrie pauses. He's in town and wants to talk to her. Same number. In case you forgot, it's -- WHAM. Carrie hits the "delete" button and beep! The message is deleted. Carrie pushes a shoe box across the floor like she's curling, except no one is at the other end of her apartment to sweep the box to a standstill.
Carrie steps out of her apartment door in a lovely pink Oscar de la Renta dress and white evening coat. Pretty! She makes it down a few steps, then looks up and sees it: Big, parked out front in his limo, his face framed in the car window like she's seen so many times before. Instantly, she looks pissed and disarmed. He turns on the charm and drawls, "Well, if Mohammed won't come to the mountain" She exhales a little and cocks her head. Finally he says hi, then she says hi breathlessly. Big says casually that he was in the neighborhood. So, can he talk to her? She says she's late for dinner with the girls. Big looks at his watch and makes a polite little WTF? face. "Its five forty-five." Yes, in the time you've been gone, Bog, Carrie and her friends have turned into old ladies. Now get out of the way, they're missing Matlock! He beseeches her to get into the car, since it's cold outside. Carrie obliges.
Big sends his driver Raoul outside so they can have a moment. Carrie says that's okay, since it's cold. Big urges Raoul to go, and whispers to Carrie that he'll "tip like a Rockefeller." Will he also save all his toenail clippings like one, and wear tissue boxes on his feet for slippers? Oh, my bad, that was Howard Hughes. Or maybe just a joke from The Simpsons. This late in the season, my brain has turned to mush. And with no bad fashion to make fun of, well, I'm just grasping at straws here. Carrie's even being so quiet that I can't tell her to shut up. How am I supposed to do my job?
“ Sad Piano starts up, heavy on the wistful. He would have called, but she put the 'do not disturb' message on her phone. She did? I wonder why she would willingly cut herself off from everything she...oh. ”
The valet lets Carrie into her room. It's fabulous. She munches on a grape, opens the curtains, then steps out onto the balcony. Lovely view of the street, and Le Tour Eiffel. She claps her hands and jumps up and down like a 38-year-old girlish woman. Wheee! Pareee!
It's night. The "hideous" light show is going on. It's not so bad. Carrie waits in her hotel room, all tricked out in what looks like an Alexander McQueen multi-layered gray and purple gown. Haute couture. Extreme. I generally call gowns like that "goons." And she's waiting for her man, who hasn't shown up yet. Tell us about the bum, Carrie.
Puppies nestle at Harry and Charlotte's feet. They're filling out adoption paperwork. (Harry and Char, not the puppies.) Harry can't believe the paperwork. Char turns to him and says that God is going to send them a baby. And, it's their job to be "as aggressive as [they] can, up to the point of being obnoxious." Harry says, "Amen." Here's a haiku I wrote for this scene:
No babies for Char
per se. None in her oven.
Adoption will work.
Finally, Alek returns to the room. Carrie's all spread out on the bed in her goon, asleep. He wakes her, then says the museum dinner turned into this whole big thing. Sad Piano starts up, heavy on the wistful. He would have called, but she put the "do not disturb" message on her phone. She did? I wonder why she would willingly cut herself off from everything she...oh. They kiss, then Alek says, "You look like dessert." She whispers that her dress is "a thousand layers." Oh boy. Counting, he begins to go up under the many layers of her goon. Oh, ew.
Sam practices her inspirational cancer speech in front of Smith, in a leopard bra and red boy-cut panties. Hee. Hot flashes. Sam's speech is rather bland. It doesn't sound like her. "It's in a woman's knowing smile..." Sam pants and sweats under her wig. Then, tah-dah! How did Smith like it? Smith makes an "eh" face. "It's kinda stiff." He thought it would sound more like Sam. At AA, "the most inspirational speakers are the ones that keep it real." Sam rolls her eyes. She's "speaking at a black tie benefit, not chilling at P. Diddy's crib." Heh. Won't she be rollin' on dubs to the benefit? Maybe she should keep all of this on the down-low. Ain't nobody have to know. Then she could shake it like a salt shaker. See the wall, shorty? Put your hands on it. Hey, I listen to far too much hip-hop. She finishes with, "You may know AA, but I know PR." Then she runs off to stick her head in the freezer. Aww, hot flashes.