Sex and the City s01e03 Episode Script
Bay of Married Pigs
One of the best things about living in a city like New York is leaving it.
My friend Patience and her husband invited me to the Hamptons for the weekend.
Patience and Peter were the perfect married couple.
They were fun, smart and they looked like they fell out of a J.
Crew catalog.
If their house wasn't right on the beach, I would have hated them.
So he gets in the cab and slides up next to me.
Yes? And it is hot.
It is hot all the way from Houston and West Broadway to 72nd and Madison.
Hampton houseguests are always required to sing for their supper.
Brokers give investment advice.
Architects, design advice.
Single people give married friends tidbits from their sexual escapades.
The next morning I woke up feeling rested and fabulous.
I couldn't wait to go out and take in the spectacular view.
Morning.
Patience went out to get juice and muffins.
She'll be right back.
There he was-- full-frontal friend.
Good! He just stood there, casual, happy, hanging out.
- I didn't know what to do or say.
- Great! I only knew one thing-- that's way too much Peter before coffee.
- Good morning.
- Hey.
Got some fresh juice and the good muffins.
So what's happening? I ran into Peter in the hallway without his underwear on.
P.
S.
Congratulations.
Sunny day.
Honey, did Carrie see your dick in the hall? Yeah, she caught me on the way to the bathroom.
Oh.
"On the way to the bathroom.
" Oh, yeah! The good muffins.
So what are we doing today? I barely had time to shove a "good muffin" in my purse before I was on my way back to New York.
I'm confused.
Why would he do that? Did he want to have sex with you? I don't know.
It didn't feel sexual.
Maybe we wanted to show it off.
Like a monkey.
- So how big was it? - Fresh pepper? Yes, please.
Thank you very much.
- That'll do.
- Would you like some fresh pepper? Oh, honey, I'd love some fresh pepper.
In fact, I think everyone at this table could use a lot of fresh pepper.
Thanks.
So I told her I didn't understand why she was so upset.
She said I couldn't understand it.
I'm single.
And what? Single women prowl beach houses hoping for glimpses of their friends' husbands' dicks? - How good a friend was she? - What's the diff erence? When someone gets married, all bets are off.
They become married, and we become the enemy.
As the only single lawyer working at her law firm Miranda had given this topic some thought.
Married women are threatened because we can have sex anytime, anywhere with anyone.
We can? And they're afraid we're gonna have it anytime, anywhere with their husbands.
I would never sleep with a married man.
What makes you so sure you haven't? Wedding rings come off, you know.
Face it, ladies.
If you're still single, you are not to be trusted.
Come on! Not all married women feel that way.
Charlotte treated marriage like a sorority she was hoping to pledge.
You're right.
Not all.
The ones who don't fear you pity you.
That's not true.
Are you telling me you haven't gotten those "poor single you" Iooks? - I hate those.
- Okay, yes, I have.
I hate it when you're the only single person at a dinner party and they all look at you like you're a-- - Loser.
- Leper.
- Whore.
- Exactly! I'm telling you, married people are the enemy.
Was Miranda right? Were we enemies? Is there a secret cold war between marrieds and singles? I love my single friends.
But now that I'm married I don't see them as much as I used to.
It's too painful.
They remind me of how desperate I used to be.
When women get married, they forget who they are.
"I" becomes "we.
" "We" Ioved the movie.
"We" hate that restaurant.
My best buddy and I did everything together.
Then he married this girl who doesn't like me.
Now I only see him on Super Bowl Sunday.
It's all about what you want out of life.
Some people, like me, choose to grow up face reality and get married.
Others choose to, what? Live an empty, haunted life of stunted adolescence.
No, it's not a cold war.
It's an out-and-out battle.
And it isn't just straight people.
Every gay guy I know is running off to Hawaii putting on a caftan, reciting vows and feeling superior to me.
- Caftan? - Oh, yes, with orchid leis.
Aloha.
I miss the old times when everyone was alone.
Now I'm starting to feel like I'm an outcast in the outcasts.
Oh, my God! Joe! It's been years.
I haven't seen you since you were-- Straight? I was gonna say in Miss Saigon.
- Still am.
- I love Miss Saigon.
Oh, this is my friend Stanford.
This is my life partner Lou.
Oh, look at that.
- Congratulations.
- Where are you registered? - Barney's.
- I was kidding.
How about you? Are you married? Not really.
I mean no! - Are you thinking what I'm thinking? - Perfect! - What? - Lou and I want to have a child.
We already have a surrogate, but we need a topnotch egg.
What are your feelings about donating one? Listen, here's our card.
You think about it, and give us a call.
- We'll pay.
- Great seeing you.
I had just experienced single-bashing for the new millennium.
I was no longer considered a person.
I was now an egg farm.
Meanwhile, in a park downtown another single woman was about to be humiliated.
Miranda was obliged to attend her firm's annual softball game.
A law firm softball game is like any other except when a lawyer steals a base, he gets promoted.
Miranda.
I was afraid you wouldn't come.
All right.
Let's get it over with.
Panicked at the idea of spending another firm function labeled as a leper Miranda had agreed to be fixed up on a blind date.
Miranda, this is Syd.
Syd, Miranda.
Look at you two.
It's a perfect match.
Well, I'm gonna excuse myself.
- Nice to meet you.
- You too.
I'm gonna get a soda.
You want a soda? - Yeah.
- I'm gonna get us a soda.
Jeff.
Pretty great, huh? Can I pick 'em or what? Yeah.
I'm not gay.
Seriously? I've been with the firm eight months.
I haven't once seen you with a guy.
Circumstantial, Jeff.
I'm single.
Christ! When did being single translate into being gay? Shit.
You want me to go over there-- No, I'll do it.
Brave Miranda marched right over and told Syd she wasn't.
They had a good laugh and decided to stay and play ball.
Miranda and Syd's last-inning double play got the attention of everyone even the firm's senior partner.
- That was quite a play, ladies.
- It's all about teamwork, Charles.
- Chip.
- Chip.
My wife and I are having a dinner party on the 12th.
Just some couples, nothing fancy.
We'd love it if you both could make it.
We'd love to.
Later that night, Miranda gave me the lowdown on her day.
So you think it's just because they think you're in a couple? I know it.
I've been with the firm for two years.
He's barely spoken to me.
All of a sudden, it's "Chip.
" A lawyer named Chip.
Gotta love that.
And they seemed so relieved to have finally figured me out.
So you're going to the dinner? Yup.
I'm determined to make partner in this firm even if I have to be a lesbian partner.
After Miranda left, I had a thought.
Maybe the cold war isn't about hate.
Maybe it's about fear, fear of the unknown.
Married people don't hate singles.
They just want us figured out.
I felt it was time to stop all the speculation and infiltrate the enemy camp.
Lunch with my favorite couple, David and Lisa.
Well, I don't think of us as married so much as together.
- Wait.
Are we married? - Yeah.
Remember that day you wore the white dress and we got all the flatware? Oh, yeah.
I guess I should stop seeing other men.
What about you? You like being single? Most of the time, yeah.
Then there are the other times.
Like family functions when you're the only one that's not married and they sit you at the kid's table.
Or when you two eat off the same fork, I just-- Oh, man, that's so sweet.
Don't start crying.
He's such a pussy.
But you do want to get married someday, right? I don't know.
I'm beginning to think I may not be the marrying kind.
Really? No sooner had the words come out of my mouth than I wondered if they were true.
Hey, Sean! What a surprise! This is our friend Carrie.
We just about to have dessert.
Want to join us? Sure.
This is such a surprise.
Another time I hate being single is when married friends "surprise" fix you up.
Two espressos and a tiramisu later I had learned that Sean was the youngest of three brothers had his own investment firm and was about to move into an apartment he had just purchased.
- You know this was a fix-up, right? - Oh, please.
I could smell it before you walked in the door.
My parents met on a fix-up and they will be married Wow.
That's great.
It was then I realized I was having coffee with the marrying guy.
That elusive and rare Manhattan man whose sights were set on marriage.
So, Carrie, can I see you again? Sure.
Over the next week and a half, I met Sean for a movie I met him for another movie and I helped him pick out a top of the line cheese grater at Williams-Sonoma.
My buddies are giving me a big housewarming on the 12th.
-You should come and bring your friends.
-Sounds like fun.
Thanks for a great day.
He was like the flesh-and-blood equivalent of a DKNY dress.
You know it's not your style, but it's right there so you try it on anyway.
It was the night of the 12th.
On the East Side a pseudo-lesbian couple attended a right-wing Republican dinner party.
On the West Side, a trio of single gals went to a single guy's housewarming party.
- So are his friends cute? - Don't know.
I haven't met them yet.
How did you manage to get a new boyfriend in a week? He's not my boyfriend.
He's just somebody I'm trying on.
All right.
Ready? Everywhere I looked, people were standing in twos.
It was like Noah's Upper West Side rent controlled ark.
It's all married couples.
Samantha gave me a look like I had sold her to the enemy for chocolate bars and nylons.
- This is for you.
- Thank you.
You must be Charlotte.
- And you have to be Samantha.
- Yeah.
Where's the bar? Kitchen.
You can't miss it.
Room with the stove.
- This apartment is amazing.
- I've been planning it for years.
I'll give you the grand tour.
As I moved through the married couples, I noticed something was different.
No fear, no pity, no pointing.
Were Sean's friends cold war conscientious objectors or was it just that I was "figured out"? My accountant says that it's best to go with low-risk stocks.
That depends.
What are your expectations? Well, I'm not sure.
Honey, I need you to come over here and meet someone.
Sure.
This is Samantha.
Samantha, this is Elaine.
His wife.
Honey, I really need you in the other room.
Sure.
It was nice talking to you, Samantha.
And this is the den.
Oh, you have one of these leather club chairs.
I love these.
Thanks.
I'm using this room as an office now but someday this is gonna be the kid's room.
Look.
I got this three years ago in Aspen.
What do you think? Okay, I owe you.
I didn't know that all his buddies were gonna be married.
Oh, my God.
You're doing tequila shots? You see that buddy over there? I fucked him.
See that buddy over there? I fucked him too.
I never thought I'd see them again.
Maybe we should start tagging your married men and that way you can keep track of them.
- He's gonna ask you to marry him.
- He is not.
I've been dating him a week and a half.
No guy buys a classic six on the Upper West Side unless they are seriously thinking about marriage.
Some people read palms.
Charlotte read real estate.
If you turn into one of those married assholes I'll kill you.
Sean is the greatest guy, and he love kids.
Plus, he owns his own business, and he's got 300,000 in the bank.
We both slept with him, and he is great in bed.
An hour and a half into this housewarming I had gone from party guest to prisoner of war.
Samantha is totally drunk.
I've gotta get her out of here.
- You're not going anywhere without me.
- Carrie.
Oh, God.
More friends.
Surprise! It certainly was.
Last time I saw Patience, she was shoving me on a bus.
When Sean told us you and he were dating, we were so thrilled.
Oh.
Well, listen.
About what happened at your beach house-- - Don't mention it.
- I just-- I'm not even sure-- I said don't mention it.
This party is terrible.
Who are you? This is my friend Patience, and this is her husband Peter.
I heard about you.
Big pepper mill dick! And just as suddenly, our little cease-fire was over.
Meanwhile, across town things were winding down.
Thank you so much.
We really had a great time.
As did we all.
She is a real find.
We'll do it again soon.
I'll meet you at the elevator, okay? I need to-- We can't do it again soon.
Syd and I aren't really a couple.
In fact, we're not even really lesbians.
Well, Syd is.
I'm not.
I just took advantage of the situation to bend your ear about my work at the firm.
Shrewd move, Counselor.
- No harm done.
- Thank you, sir.
My wife will be disappointed.
She was looking to add a lesbian couple to our circle.
As they rode between floors Miranda considered how much easier her life would be if she were in a couple.
Any couple.
Yep.
Definitely straight.
Yeah.
You are.
Sorry.
While Miranda cursed her heterosexuality and wondered how much longer she could fight the war Charlotte cursed tequila and forced Samantha into a cab.
She decided Samantha was too drunk to get home alone and insisted she spend the night on her couch.
Let me get that door for you.
- All right.
- I like him.
She got Samantha upstairs and safely to bed.
Or so she thought.
A couple of hours later, Samantha woke up still drunk and still single.
And single to Samantha meant one thing.
- Can I have a cigarette? - Sure.
Can I have a kiss? Jesus.
I really shouldn't.
Somebody might see.
Why don't you come upstairs, just for a minute? Don't be scared, miss.
It's me, Tommy.
I'm just leaving.
Your friend invited me up.
I know it was wrong.
But I've been so lonely since I left home and I wanted the feel of a woman's touch on me.
I'm going into the bathroom now and when I come out, you won't be here.
And I never want this mentioned again.
Let me get the door for you, miss.
I was hoping you'd stay over.
Look, Sean I don't think this is gonna work.
We want different things.
You obviously want to get married and I don't know what I want.
You could smell my desperation, right? It's just-- I was trying you on.
You know? See if it fit.
It doesn't.
I'm sorry.
I don't understand you women.
All I hear is "I want to get married.
" And none of you says yes.
What the fuck? I'm so tired of going through women.
I just want to get married.
I may know someone who's perfect for you.
Who? They started out casual-- a brunch here, a concert there.
But pretty soon they were visiting china.
I always wanted this pattern for formal dining.
Are you serious? Charlotte broke it off then and there.
It would never work.
He was American Classic; she was French Country.
Your friend never called like she promised.
- Why is that? - I don't know.
As I sifted through the rubble of my marriage skirmish I had a thought.
Maybe the fight between marrieds and singles is like the war in Northern lreland.
We're all basically the same but somehow we wound up on different sides.
Sure, it'd be great to have that one special person to walk home with but sometimes there's nothing better than meeting your single girlfriends for a night at the movies.
My friend Patience and her husband invited me to the Hamptons for the weekend.
Patience and Peter were the perfect married couple.
They were fun, smart and they looked like they fell out of a J.
Crew catalog.
If their house wasn't right on the beach, I would have hated them.
So he gets in the cab and slides up next to me.
Yes? And it is hot.
It is hot all the way from Houston and West Broadway to 72nd and Madison.
Hampton houseguests are always required to sing for their supper.
Brokers give investment advice.
Architects, design advice.
Single people give married friends tidbits from their sexual escapades.
The next morning I woke up feeling rested and fabulous.
I couldn't wait to go out and take in the spectacular view.
Morning.
Patience went out to get juice and muffins.
She'll be right back.
There he was-- full-frontal friend.
Good! He just stood there, casual, happy, hanging out.
- I didn't know what to do or say.
- Great! I only knew one thing-- that's way too much Peter before coffee.
- Good morning.
- Hey.
Got some fresh juice and the good muffins.
So what's happening? I ran into Peter in the hallway without his underwear on.
P.
S.
Congratulations.
Sunny day.
Honey, did Carrie see your dick in the hall? Yeah, she caught me on the way to the bathroom.
Oh.
"On the way to the bathroom.
" Oh, yeah! The good muffins.
So what are we doing today? I barely had time to shove a "good muffin" in my purse before I was on my way back to New York.
I'm confused.
Why would he do that? Did he want to have sex with you? I don't know.
It didn't feel sexual.
Maybe we wanted to show it off.
Like a monkey.
- So how big was it? - Fresh pepper? Yes, please.
Thank you very much.
- That'll do.
- Would you like some fresh pepper? Oh, honey, I'd love some fresh pepper.
In fact, I think everyone at this table could use a lot of fresh pepper.
Thanks.
So I told her I didn't understand why she was so upset.
She said I couldn't understand it.
I'm single.
And what? Single women prowl beach houses hoping for glimpses of their friends' husbands' dicks? - How good a friend was she? - What's the diff erence? When someone gets married, all bets are off.
They become married, and we become the enemy.
As the only single lawyer working at her law firm Miranda had given this topic some thought.
Married women are threatened because we can have sex anytime, anywhere with anyone.
We can? And they're afraid we're gonna have it anytime, anywhere with their husbands.
I would never sleep with a married man.
What makes you so sure you haven't? Wedding rings come off, you know.
Face it, ladies.
If you're still single, you are not to be trusted.
Come on! Not all married women feel that way.
Charlotte treated marriage like a sorority she was hoping to pledge.
You're right.
Not all.
The ones who don't fear you pity you.
That's not true.
Are you telling me you haven't gotten those "poor single you" Iooks? - I hate those.
- Okay, yes, I have.
I hate it when you're the only single person at a dinner party and they all look at you like you're a-- - Loser.
- Leper.
- Whore.
- Exactly! I'm telling you, married people are the enemy.
Was Miranda right? Were we enemies? Is there a secret cold war between marrieds and singles? I love my single friends.
But now that I'm married I don't see them as much as I used to.
It's too painful.
They remind me of how desperate I used to be.
When women get married, they forget who they are.
"I" becomes "we.
" "We" Ioved the movie.
"We" hate that restaurant.
My best buddy and I did everything together.
Then he married this girl who doesn't like me.
Now I only see him on Super Bowl Sunday.
It's all about what you want out of life.
Some people, like me, choose to grow up face reality and get married.
Others choose to, what? Live an empty, haunted life of stunted adolescence.
No, it's not a cold war.
It's an out-and-out battle.
And it isn't just straight people.
Every gay guy I know is running off to Hawaii putting on a caftan, reciting vows and feeling superior to me.
- Caftan? - Oh, yes, with orchid leis.
Aloha.
I miss the old times when everyone was alone.
Now I'm starting to feel like I'm an outcast in the outcasts.
Oh, my God! Joe! It's been years.
I haven't seen you since you were-- Straight? I was gonna say in Miss Saigon.
- Still am.
- I love Miss Saigon.
Oh, this is my friend Stanford.
This is my life partner Lou.
Oh, look at that.
- Congratulations.
- Where are you registered? - Barney's.
- I was kidding.
How about you? Are you married? Not really.
I mean no! - Are you thinking what I'm thinking? - Perfect! - What? - Lou and I want to have a child.
We already have a surrogate, but we need a topnotch egg.
What are your feelings about donating one? Listen, here's our card.
You think about it, and give us a call.
- We'll pay.
- Great seeing you.
I had just experienced single-bashing for the new millennium.
I was no longer considered a person.
I was now an egg farm.
Meanwhile, in a park downtown another single woman was about to be humiliated.
Miranda was obliged to attend her firm's annual softball game.
A law firm softball game is like any other except when a lawyer steals a base, he gets promoted.
Miranda.
I was afraid you wouldn't come.
All right.
Let's get it over with.
Panicked at the idea of spending another firm function labeled as a leper Miranda had agreed to be fixed up on a blind date.
Miranda, this is Syd.
Syd, Miranda.
Look at you two.
It's a perfect match.
Well, I'm gonna excuse myself.
- Nice to meet you.
- You too.
I'm gonna get a soda.
You want a soda? - Yeah.
- I'm gonna get us a soda.
Jeff.
Pretty great, huh? Can I pick 'em or what? Yeah.
I'm not gay.
Seriously? I've been with the firm eight months.
I haven't once seen you with a guy.
Circumstantial, Jeff.
I'm single.
Christ! When did being single translate into being gay? Shit.
You want me to go over there-- No, I'll do it.
Brave Miranda marched right over and told Syd she wasn't.
They had a good laugh and decided to stay and play ball.
Miranda and Syd's last-inning double play got the attention of everyone even the firm's senior partner.
- That was quite a play, ladies.
- It's all about teamwork, Charles.
- Chip.
- Chip.
My wife and I are having a dinner party on the 12th.
Just some couples, nothing fancy.
We'd love it if you both could make it.
We'd love to.
Later that night, Miranda gave me the lowdown on her day.
So you think it's just because they think you're in a couple? I know it.
I've been with the firm for two years.
He's barely spoken to me.
All of a sudden, it's "Chip.
" A lawyer named Chip.
Gotta love that.
And they seemed so relieved to have finally figured me out.
So you're going to the dinner? Yup.
I'm determined to make partner in this firm even if I have to be a lesbian partner.
After Miranda left, I had a thought.
Maybe the cold war isn't about hate.
Maybe it's about fear, fear of the unknown.
Married people don't hate singles.
They just want us figured out.
I felt it was time to stop all the speculation and infiltrate the enemy camp.
Lunch with my favorite couple, David and Lisa.
Well, I don't think of us as married so much as together.
- Wait.
Are we married? - Yeah.
Remember that day you wore the white dress and we got all the flatware? Oh, yeah.
I guess I should stop seeing other men.
What about you? You like being single? Most of the time, yeah.
Then there are the other times.
Like family functions when you're the only one that's not married and they sit you at the kid's table.
Or when you two eat off the same fork, I just-- Oh, man, that's so sweet.
Don't start crying.
He's such a pussy.
But you do want to get married someday, right? I don't know.
I'm beginning to think I may not be the marrying kind.
Really? No sooner had the words come out of my mouth than I wondered if they were true.
Hey, Sean! What a surprise! This is our friend Carrie.
We just about to have dessert.
Want to join us? Sure.
This is such a surprise.
Another time I hate being single is when married friends "surprise" fix you up.
Two espressos and a tiramisu later I had learned that Sean was the youngest of three brothers had his own investment firm and was about to move into an apartment he had just purchased.
- You know this was a fix-up, right? - Oh, please.
I could smell it before you walked in the door.
My parents met on a fix-up and they will be married Wow.
That's great.
It was then I realized I was having coffee with the marrying guy.
That elusive and rare Manhattan man whose sights were set on marriage.
So, Carrie, can I see you again? Sure.
Over the next week and a half, I met Sean for a movie I met him for another movie and I helped him pick out a top of the line cheese grater at Williams-Sonoma.
My buddies are giving me a big housewarming on the 12th.
-You should come and bring your friends.
-Sounds like fun.
Thanks for a great day.
He was like the flesh-and-blood equivalent of a DKNY dress.
You know it's not your style, but it's right there so you try it on anyway.
It was the night of the 12th.
On the East Side a pseudo-lesbian couple attended a right-wing Republican dinner party.
On the West Side, a trio of single gals went to a single guy's housewarming party.
- So are his friends cute? - Don't know.
I haven't met them yet.
How did you manage to get a new boyfriend in a week? He's not my boyfriend.
He's just somebody I'm trying on.
All right.
Ready? Everywhere I looked, people were standing in twos.
It was like Noah's Upper West Side rent controlled ark.
It's all married couples.
Samantha gave me a look like I had sold her to the enemy for chocolate bars and nylons.
- This is for you.
- Thank you.
You must be Charlotte.
- And you have to be Samantha.
- Yeah.
Where's the bar? Kitchen.
You can't miss it.
Room with the stove.
- This apartment is amazing.
- I've been planning it for years.
I'll give you the grand tour.
As I moved through the married couples, I noticed something was different.
No fear, no pity, no pointing.
Were Sean's friends cold war conscientious objectors or was it just that I was "figured out"? My accountant says that it's best to go with low-risk stocks.
That depends.
What are your expectations? Well, I'm not sure.
Honey, I need you to come over here and meet someone.
Sure.
This is Samantha.
Samantha, this is Elaine.
His wife.
Honey, I really need you in the other room.
Sure.
It was nice talking to you, Samantha.
And this is the den.
Oh, you have one of these leather club chairs.
I love these.
Thanks.
I'm using this room as an office now but someday this is gonna be the kid's room.
Look.
I got this three years ago in Aspen.
What do you think? Okay, I owe you.
I didn't know that all his buddies were gonna be married.
Oh, my God.
You're doing tequila shots? You see that buddy over there? I fucked him.
See that buddy over there? I fucked him too.
I never thought I'd see them again.
Maybe we should start tagging your married men and that way you can keep track of them.
- He's gonna ask you to marry him.
- He is not.
I've been dating him a week and a half.
No guy buys a classic six on the Upper West Side unless they are seriously thinking about marriage.
Some people read palms.
Charlotte read real estate.
If you turn into one of those married assholes I'll kill you.
Sean is the greatest guy, and he love kids.
Plus, he owns his own business, and he's got 300,000 in the bank.
We both slept with him, and he is great in bed.
An hour and a half into this housewarming I had gone from party guest to prisoner of war.
Samantha is totally drunk.
I've gotta get her out of here.
- You're not going anywhere without me.
- Carrie.
Oh, God.
More friends.
Surprise! It certainly was.
Last time I saw Patience, she was shoving me on a bus.
When Sean told us you and he were dating, we were so thrilled.
Oh.
Well, listen.
About what happened at your beach house-- - Don't mention it.
- I just-- I'm not even sure-- I said don't mention it.
This party is terrible.
Who are you? This is my friend Patience, and this is her husband Peter.
I heard about you.
Big pepper mill dick! And just as suddenly, our little cease-fire was over.
Meanwhile, across town things were winding down.
Thank you so much.
We really had a great time.
As did we all.
She is a real find.
We'll do it again soon.
I'll meet you at the elevator, okay? I need to-- We can't do it again soon.
Syd and I aren't really a couple.
In fact, we're not even really lesbians.
Well, Syd is.
I'm not.
I just took advantage of the situation to bend your ear about my work at the firm.
Shrewd move, Counselor.
- No harm done.
- Thank you, sir.
My wife will be disappointed.
She was looking to add a lesbian couple to our circle.
As they rode between floors Miranda considered how much easier her life would be if she were in a couple.
Any couple.
Yep.
Definitely straight.
Yeah.
You are.
Sorry.
While Miranda cursed her heterosexuality and wondered how much longer she could fight the war Charlotte cursed tequila and forced Samantha into a cab.
She decided Samantha was too drunk to get home alone and insisted she spend the night on her couch.
Let me get that door for you.
- All right.
- I like him.
She got Samantha upstairs and safely to bed.
Or so she thought.
A couple of hours later, Samantha woke up still drunk and still single.
And single to Samantha meant one thing.
- Can I have a cigarette? - Sure.
Can I have a kiss? Jesus.
I really shouldn't.
Somebody might see.
Why don't you come upstairs, just for a minute? Don't be scared, miss.
It's me, Tommy.
I'm just leaving.
Your friend invited me up.
I know it was wrong.
But I've been so lonely since I left home and I wanted the feel of a woman's touch on me.
I'm going into the bathroom now and when I come out, you won't be here.
And I never want this mentioned again.
Let me get the door for you, miss.
I was hoping you'd stay over.
Look, Sean I don't think this is gonna work.
We want different things.
You obviously want to get married and I don't know what I want.
You could smell my desperation, right? It's just-- I was trying you on.
You know? See if it fit.
It doesn't.
I'm sorry.
I don't understand you women.
All I hear is "I want to get married.
" And none of you says yes.
What the fuck? I'm so tired of going through women.
I just want to get married.
I may know someone who's perfect for you.
Who? They started out casual-- a brunch here, a concert there.
But pretty soon they were visiting china.
I always wanted this pattern for formal dining.
Are you serious? Charlotte broke it off then and there.
It would never work.
He was American Classic; she was French Country.
Your friend never called like she promised.
- Why is that? - I don't know.
As I sifted through the rubble of my marriage skirmish I had a thought.
Maybe the fight between marrieds and singles is like the war in Northern lreland.
We're all basically the same but somehow we wound up on different sides.
Sure, it'd be great to have that one special person to walk home with but sometimes there's nothing better than meeting your single girlfriends for a night at the movies.