210. The Caste System
Here are some things I love about New York:
That week in spring when it's warm, but not hot...
...and the trees are just beginning to bloom.
Men in suits.
Three papers and 12 gossip columns.
It's easy for me to say,”I love you, New York.”
It's not so easy to say,”I love you, Mr. Big.”
The first time I realized I actually loved Big...
...was over toast and coffee one morning.
The first time I actually felt like saying it was the night he took me to the ballet.
And he hates the ballet.
I don't want to disappoint you. But I think a couple of those dancers were on wires.
They were not on wires.
On a couple of those big leaps I saw the wires.
You know what?
I love...your hair like that.
Cut it out.
And then there was the time I never expected to say it.
Last Friday night at approximately 7:20 p.m...
...Big was picking me up to take me out to dinner.
I just have to change my shoes.
Hurry, we don't want to be late.
If we grab a cab on Madison, we can be there in five minutes.
What's this for?
I just saw it and thought of you.
It was just wrong. It was wrong.
I didn't know what to say except: I love you.
You told Big,”I love you”, because he gave you that?
What did you think it was, a large diamond duck ring?
I think my mother has one in the shape of a squirrel.
Note that I did not say,”I love the purse.”
What did he say?
He just...sort of reacted stunned for a moment and then he said:
You're welcome. I'll just wait for you outside.
Maybe he thought you said, “I love it.”
It was a very deliberate and distinct “you.”
He just pretended you didn't say it?
Yeah, but we both know I did.
I've laid down the gauntlet.
He has to say “I love you” back or I have to break up with him.
How long are you giving him?
I didn't put an expiration date on it.
But I figured it's got the shelf life of a dairy product, it'll start to curdle in a week.
It's so interesting.
You can tell a man, “I hate you”, you'll have the best sex of your life.
But tell him, “I love you”, you'll probably never see him again.
That's very comforting right now.
Wait a minute. Time out. Did you ever think that at this very moment...
...the man might be trying to find his way to tell Carrie that he loves her?
Listening to Miranda wax optimistic about love...
...was more disorienting than a heat wave in February.
It seemed that Miranda, formerly love's greatest skeptic...
...had recently experienced a romantic epiphany.
Grab us a seat outside and I'll meet you out there.
-Will you let me pay this time? -Your money's no good here. Grab us a bench.
-How much? -$5.90.
She was dating a bartender who worshiped her.
Miranda was so crazy about him in return...
...that she let him take her out to dinner.
But only to places she knew he could afford.
Best slices in the city, don't you think?
Saturday, my firm is having its annual dinner thing.
I was wondering--if you think the bar could spare you for a night to be my date.
I warn you, it'll be totally boring.
It's not gonna be boring if I'm there with you.
You probably should wear a suit.
It's gonna be a big fancy affair.
-You do have a suit, right? -Sure, I do. It's really nice. It's gold.
Yeah, corduroy. What's wrong with corduroy?
I don't have enough time to tell you what's wrong with corduroy.
For the first time, Steve took Miranda back to his place.
So this is your apartment.
I modeled it after DeNiro's place in Taxi Driver. I'm kidding.
It's cheap and it's near the bar. You never have to come here again.
That evening Miranda experienced her first pangs of yuppie guilt.
A lot of wonderful artists worked as bartenders for years.
It doesn't mean he won't make money some day.
He's not an artist, slash, bartender.
He's just happy being a bartender, period.
No aspirations beyond shaking cocktails and refilling peanut bowls.
How's he in bed?
There are no words.
Sounds like a dream relationship to me.
He can make you cum, then make you a Cosmopolitan.
Honestly, I don’t know how you can get serious with a guy whose entire future is based on tips?
Wait a minute. Rich men date not-so-rich women all the time. Look at me and Big.
It's not about money, it's about compatibility. It's normal for the guy to have more money.
I know lots of women who make more money than their husbands.
You're all missing my point. None of this matters to me. I don't want it to matter to him.
It’s like when single men have a lot of money, it's to their advantage.
If a single woman has money, it's a problem to be dealt with.
It's ridiculous. I want to enjoy my success, not apologize for it.
You're talking about more than a difference in income.
You're talking about a difference in background and education.
This guy is working class.
It's the Millennium. We don't say things like “working class” anymore.
You're trying to pretend we live in a classless society...and we don't.
Marie-Antoinette, we get the picture.
She's right. I'm dating a guy right now and he's got an actual servant.
It seems that Samantha was dating Harvey Terkel...
...a real estate investor who had just made a killing in the market...
...turning Chelsea sweatshops into luxury co-ops for the upwardly trendy.
Sum is a fantastic cook. You won't eat better Thai food in Bangkok.
More, Mr. Harvey?
You like spicy like Mr. Harvey, miss?
I love spicy.
Isn't she the best? I could not live without her.
I wondered, was New York really any different from New Delhi?
Had our class system been replaced by a caste system?
And if so, can we date outside our caste?
That night, Big took me out for a romantic dinner.
I could smell it coming the way you can smell a thunderstorm coming.
A mere two days after I had said, “I love you”...
...Big had found his own way to say “I love you” to me.
You're gonna love this. It's from a small winery in the heart of Tuscany.
I rented a villa there one summer with the ex. It was incredible.
I've always wanted to go back with someone I actually liked.
There's something I've been meaning to tell you ever since...
...the night I gave you the purse:
You can take it back, if you don't like it.
That became the first night I wanted to tell Big...”I hate you”.
The next afternoon, Charlotte made the acquaintance...
...of a member of the very highest caste.
A caste that from coast to coast, rich and poor...
...everyone deferred to and honored without question...the movie star.
I'm Charlotte York. I'm the director of the gallery.
How much for this piece?
The fire extinguisher?
No. That's a real fire extinguisher. For the gallery, in case there's a fire.
I guess I'm a total idiot.
No, it happens all the time. You can have it. Take it.
You can say you got it at the gallery. People will probably think it's a Jeff Koons.
You are adorable. What do you think about closing up for the rest of the afternoon?
Charlene, you are so hot. Can't wait to get you to bed.
Charlotte. My name is Charlotte.
I prefer Charlene.
This champagne is running through me. Yo, bud, pull over; I need to take a leak.
Sit tight, beautiful.
You'll never believe where I am.
I'm in the back of a limo about to go have sex with Wiley Ford.
Where is he now?
He's taking a leak out in the alley, isn't that cute?
It's adorable. Charlotte, listen to me, get out of there immediately.
All my rules just went right out the window.
It's like, he wants me and I have to obey.
He's zipping up, gotta go.
While Charlotte began to enjoy the perks of celebrity...
...Samantha discovered Harvey Terkel came with some nice perks of his own.
Stay in bed as long as you want. Sum will make you breakfast.
That's really not necessary.
Please, she loves it. Do you like fresh orange or grapefruit?
Coming right up.
I'll call you.
While Samantha didn't believe in having servants...
...she realized she had no problem dating a man who did.
She knew it might take some adjusting, but she could get used to it.
Bye, Sum. Take good care of Samantha.
Bye, Mr. Harvey.
Okay, lazy bones, out of bed.
-Excuse me? -Up, must wash sheets.
Should I have my breakfast in the dining room--
Breakfast? I got no time to make breakfast.
Got a lot of work to do around here.
It was then Samantha realized that Sum was not so servile after all.
That afternoon during her lunch break, Miranda took Steve shopping.
-Thank you. -You're welcome.
What do you think?
I think it's frightening how good I look.
It's a beautiful suit. I think we should take it.
Could you do a cuff with a nice break?
-Will these be the shoes? -I think we should take the shoes.
Don't you think so?
I guess we're taking the shoes.
Just like that.
Jesus, $1,800. I guess I better not spill anything.
Don't worry. It's my treat.
I invited you, I want to pay for the suit.
No way, you're not buying me a suit.
I wanted to do this for you.
Then I start to think of you like my mother and that can get a little weird for me.
Sorry, sir, it was declined.
-Would you like to try another one? -Why don't you try one of mine?
How about this?
Let's try $800 on the card, I'll write a check for $1,000 and the rest in cash.
Forget it. It's too expensive.
Would you just let me buy the fucking suit?
That Saturday, Big took me to a cocktail party at the home of Sarina Bush...
Great purse, fabulous.
...an Upper East Side hostess famous for her husband's money...
...and a close friendship with Tina Brown.
I used to know her 10 years ago when she was famous for...
...her father's money and a close friendship with her drug dealer.
God, I hate Park Avenue. It's like being in a foreign country.
Just think of me as your passport, baby.
As we walked through the room...
...of women clutching their bejeweled swan, kitten and asparagus purses...
...I realized to my horror that not only did Big not love me...
...he had absolutely no idea who I was.
-Can I get you a drink? -Tanqueray and tonic.
Carrie, a drink?
Red wine, please.
I'm sorry, Ms. Bush doesn't serve any brown food or drink.
Can I get you something clear?
Vodka on the rocks.
No brown food?
I think we've encountered a mutant strain of Upper East Side anal.
She's a little strange. I've known her for years, she's okay.
I'm sure she's fabulous until you spill something.
It's like she's trying to cultivate an eccentricity...
...so people won't notice she's completely devoid of personality.
-Don't be a bitch. -I'm not being a bitch, I'm being myself.
You're being a little bit of a bitch.
Sweetheart! How are you? It's been forever.
Thank you for having us. Sarina, you know Carrie.
Darling, you can't smoke in here.
Then that's where I'll be.
Just like that, I was cast out of the fancy party.
Charlotte found herself the newest member of Wiley Ford's entourage.
When did marijuana become legal in restaurants?
-Here. -No, thank you. I don't smoke pot.
You do now.
You know, Sum was very rude to me the other morning. She practically threw me out of bed.
You must've misunderstood.
Her English isn't really that good.
More asparagus, Miss?
It was then Samantha realized...she wasn’t so dim, that Sum.
That night, I realized that relationships had a caste system of their own.
There's the person who says, “I love you.” And there's the person who never responds.
-Carrie. – Hey, Jeremiah. What are you doing here?
Purveying the beverages.
-Just snuck out here to smoke. -Good.
Are you friends with these people?
A little uptight.
-What's with the no brown food deal? -Whatever.
Jeremiah was a famous downtown performance artist...
...who was best known uptown as: “Kid, give me another scotch and soda.”
We had engaged in a mild flirtation for years.
Who're you here with?
I got a new tattoo, want to see it?
-Is that real? -Yeah, it's real.
How far down does that go?
Pretty far. Check it out.
Were you really giving the caterer a blow job?
First of all, he's not a caterer. He's a well-known performance artist.
That didn't answer my question.
Because it was offensive.
Whatever you were doing, please stop. You're embarrassing me.
I'm embarrassing you?
Maybe if you'd joined me on the terrace like a gentleman...
...we wouldn't be standing here having this conversation.
Let's just go.
You go, I'm having a good time.
And across town, Miranda was late for the firm dinner.
Why are you dressed like that?
I returned the suit. Frankly, I couldn't afford it.
Then why didn't you let me pay for it?
Miranda, you need to be with a guy who's more on your level.
Being in that store with you, I didn't feel good about myself.
I think you're an incredible lady.
You want to break up with me over a suit? Fuck the suit.
It's not just the suit. There's always gonna be things out of my reach.
I'm being punished for being successful.
That's not how I mean it.
Got it. Thanks for the info and for standing me up. It's been nice knowing you.
An hour later, adrift in a sea of Italian wool crepe...
...Miranda wondered what was really so wrong with corduroy, anyway.
In the space of one evening, Charlotte had gone from girlfriend to groupie.
Who had the rum and coke?
Listen, Charlene. I want you to do something for me.
I want you to go to the ladies' room...
...stick your finger in your pussy...
...come back and let me smell it.
I don't think so.
Charlotte realized, another moment at the top, and she would have become an Untouchable.
“Jeremiah was a bullfrog
“Was a good friend of mine
“I never understood a single word he said
“But I helped him drink his wine”
After Jeremiah got fired, we celebrated downtown with a couple of pitchers of Margaritas.
“Joy to the world
“All the boys and girls
“Joy to the--
“Joy to the fishes in the deep blue--”
I don't live here.
“Joy to you and me”
That was the last thing I remembered that night.
“If I were the king of the world”
-You just relax. -I will.
I'm gonna go grab a shower.
Nasty. Nasty girl. You dirty cock-sucking whore. Must wash sheets right away.
Stop it! Let go. You're crazy.
What's going on out here?
Mr. Harvey. I'm so sorry. I just tried to wash the sheets, but that Lady hit me.
How dare you treat Sum that way?
-Let me explain. -No! There's no explanation. Just get out of here.
Samantha realized there was only room for one woman in Harvey's life.
Listen...I know what you're really pissed off about.
It's just something I gotta do in my own time. Okay?
I fucking love you. All right? You know I do.
It's just a tough thing for me to say...
...because it always seems to get me in trouble when I say it.
Are we okay?
We're great. I love you, too. I'll call you later, okay?
I didn't think so.
I felt like I was the lowest of the low.
I never told Mr. Big.
I figured everything before “I love you” just doesn't count.