503. Luck Be an Old Lady
When venturing out on your first blind date in a decade, it's crucial to have the right attitude. Hope for the best.
- Ted? - Sorry.
Prepare for the worst. And who knows? You just might be pleasantly surprised… or not.
I got stood up. Yes, I deigned to go on a blind date against all my better judgment. I was willing to lower myself into the gutter.
God, I miss dating.
- And then he doesn't show! - Are you sure?
Either he didn't show or he took one look at me and ran for the hills. Which is worse? I can't decide.
I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation. We're gonna get to the bottom of it.
We're at the bottom. A complete stranger hurt my feelings. I'd say that's scraping bottom.
You shouldn't even be going on blind dates. It's beneath you.
Now, that's not true. I know a lot of great couples that met on blind dates. Eric and Marcie...
Stop. Even if he had shown up, most first dates are like job interviews with cocktails. I think I'm done.
That’s what I said that yesterday about eating bread, and I just ordered pancakes.
Why should I risk having a God-awful evening when I am guaranteed to have fun with you guys?
Honey, you're cute. But I'm never gonna fuck you.
I'm really sorry this happened to you on your first date back out there, just keep trying.
I'm like Punxsutawney Phil. I came out, I saw my shadow, and I'm going back in. See you next winter.
You have to take risks so you don't wind up an old maid.
That's right! Must not wind up old maid! Now, how am I gonna remember that? Does anybody have a pen?
Why do we get stuck with "old maid" and "spinster" and men get to be "bachelors" and "playboys"?
No matter how shriveled their dicks are.
The end. New topic. Charlotte's 36th birthday, Saturday night. I say we spinsters take back Manhattan.
I've thought about it and I've decided I'm sticking at 35.
Because it was such a good year?
Because I'm just not where I thought I'd be at 36. I don't feel 36, and I don't look 36, right?
And men are much more interested in meeting 35-year-olds. So I'm sticking.
We all turned 36, like big girls. Now it's your turn.36
Let her stick. Lying about her age is the smartest thing she's done in years.
Okay, then. Where are we celebrating Charlotte's 35th birthday, the sequel?
Sorry, today's the baby nurse's last day. Now you'll have to book me a year in advance.
- Wow, you're like Nobu. - I can't go either. Richard's taking me to Atlantic City for the weekend.
What'd you do wrong?
He loves to gamble and there's some kind of heavyweight prizefight thing he wants to see. But we are going on his private jet.
No celebration is fine with me.
Are you telling me we can't get together to celebrate Charlotte's 30-faux birthday? This is bullshit!
Two nights later, with no friends available, no dates, not even any good bad TV to watch...
This is bullshit! Okay, this is my third and final phone call. Miranda thinks she can get Steve to watch the baby. Charlotte agreed to come out as long as we don't mention her birthday or the number 36. I'm still a little fuzzy on the rules. Anyway, can't you get out of Atlantic City?
I don't know. I'll have to ask Richard.
Please do, because I am looking at the last picture taken of the four of us and it is moldy. Miranda is wearing a blouse with shoulder pads.
Carrie's hell-bent on getting the four of us together Saturday night. Would you be terribly disappointed if I didn't come?
Why not just bring them along? I'll arrange for comp suites, and there's room on the jet.
That Friday, I picked up my fellow jet setter on the way to the airport.
Under the boardwalk, we'll be having some...What?
I can't go. I'm just...not ready to be separated from the baby.
- What? - I'm kidding! Steve took him two hours ago. I'm free! I'm leaving the compound!
Don't do that to me. I'm a 36-year-old woman.
- Come on in. I just need two seconds! - Okay! Oh, man. Hi, Magda. How are you?
You wanna see something beautiful? Come, I show you. Look at him. You ever see such beautiful face? Look, here. So smiley. And here, after bath, with his little pupik. Okay.
As I live and breathe, Ms. Hobbes, I never thought I'd see the day.
That's not me, that's her. I didn't even take most of those. Okay, this is the only sweater I have that covers my ass. Do you think I can get away with this and stretchy pants all weekend?
Are you kidding? Atlantic City is the capital of stretchy pants. They're mandatory there.
Hi, how you doing?
Steve, what's wrong? What are you doing back here?
I thought I forgot the wipies, but it turns out, actually...I don't think I can do this.
I'm afraid I might break him or something. Look, I accidentally scratched his face with my dirty fingernail.
It's nothing. You've taken care of him before. It's been fine.
Yeah, but for two hours. For two hours I'm great, but after two hours, I might...accidentally kill him.
We're both afraid we're gonna kill the baby. That's a given. But we made an agreement this week.
Monday to Friday, I try not to kill him. Saturday and Sunday, you try not to kill him.
Wait. I'm sorry. I can't do it.
You should go. You're gonna miss the plane.
No way. The four of us are going to Atlantic City. We'll figure something out.
- Hello! Sorry I'm so late! - Hi!
- Charlotte, welcome aboard. - Where is everybody? I though I was late.
They had a problem. Something with the baby. They're meeting us down there.
They are? But...So it's just going to be the three of us for the whole flight?
Yeah, come in. Make yourself comfortable.
Samantha, you shouldn't have! It's pretty. But what is it?
I'm sorry, that was actually meant for Samantha. It's a pearl thong.
For me? You naughty boy.
Did I tell you I've taken up knitting? I find it really calms my nerves.
Practical and stimulating. What will they think of next?
Knitting is the new yoga, according to New York magazine. I'm making these for little Brady.
Maybe later, if you're good, I'll give you a pearl necklace to match.
My father gave me the most beautiful pearl necklace for my sweet 16.
Actually, we're talking about the other kind of pearl necklace. You know, when a guy decorates your neck.
You're sure that Carrie said they were coming down tonight?
"Knit one, purl two" would never sound the same to Charlotte again.
You know, I need to go somewhere for two days that I've been looking forward to...
- Excuse me. - No. That's not what I'm talking about.
Time out. Magda here has offered to help Steve with the baby over the weekend.
No, that's not her job.
I'm begging you, throw some money at the problem and let's hit the road.
We've already missed the jet. How would we even get there?
“This is the final call for Atlantic City. Passengers should be on board for immediate departure.”
This is pleasant. I think we're on the old-lady express. Where are all the old men?
Dead, or married to 20-year-olds. I am so excited. I have been dreaming about being alone with these for months.
I love that The New Yorker is your porn. Do you think we'll still be friends when we're this old?
What do you mean, "sure"? I could barely get us together for the weekend and we're all still mobile. Hey, New Yorker, I'm talking to you. How are we gonna make it to 70 if you've already zoned me out?
Okay, I'm listening. Talk fast.
I'm serious. Friendships don't magically last 40 years. You have to invest in them. It's like your savings. You don't expect to wake up one day, old and find a big bucket of money waiting there.
Did you finally open that IRA?
No, my point is... we need an emotional retirement plan. This is important making time for each other and taking trips like this. Because as we can see here, at the end of the line, it's just gonna be us ladies riding a bus.
I'm so happy right now.
“Atlantic City departing at gate 104.”
Two New Yorker magazines and two knit booties later, we all arrived at the understated Taj Mahal casino.
Here it is, ladies, Atlantic City! Breathe deep and take it all in. God, I've missed this. Yeah.
- I thought you'd never been here before. - I'm referring to the cigarette smoke.
- Look at all the old ladies. - This is nothing. You should have been on the bus with us.
- I wish I had been.
Please, a little harmless over-the-bra action and Miss Priss here is running for a parachute.
- Have you ever heard of a pearl necklace? - I'm hitting the slots.
I told Richard I'd stop by his baccarat game.
Not so fast. We'll take care of all that later. But right now I'm taking my ladies to dinner. That's right. It's on me. Steak? You got it. Lobster? Coming right up. Nothing is too fancy for my Atlantic City ladies.
We have got to get a picture here. This place is fantastic.
Is that a euphemism for tacky?
Would it be bad to order more sour cream?
No! Eat your heart out. You're on vacation.
I almost forgot about Charlotte's present.
- It's tomorrow, and I said I didn't... - Relax! I bought it in the gift shop for $3.99.
Old Maid? Is this supposed to be funny?
Of course it's supposed to be funny. Look at you. You couldn't be farther from an old maid.
I remember her looking a lot older. She looks about our age now.
She's had work done.
So, here's where all the bathing beauties are hiding.
Oh, you flatterer.
My poker game is about to start. Would you like to join me?
- I don't think so. I think I'll stay with the girls. - All right.
- Hey, Richard, welcome back to the Taj Mahal. How are you? - Very well, Denise. Thank you.
Hello, Denise. I'm Samantha. It's a pleasure to meet you.
If you ladies will excuse me, there are five gentlemen waiting to take my money.
- I'll walk you out. - Thank you.
- That reminds me, I have to pump soon. - Yeah, who picked this breastaurant?
Cleavage is big here. It's part of the regional charm. All right. I propose a toast. To the four of us. May we always...
I think I will join Richard after all. Good night.
Ladies, would you like a souvenir photograph?
No. It was supposed to be of the four of us. Now one of us has a puss on. Thanks.
When are we gonna go gamble? Come on. Baby needs a new pair of shoes.
- Okay, you won! Let's go find Samantha. - But I'm winning.
- That's why you should leave now. - I don't wanna leave.
- I've been here a half-hour. No one's offered to buy us drinks. - They're free.
- Hey, blondie, blow my dice for luck. - No. I don't know how to play the game. Let her do it.
- No, get the hot one. - I want you. You're my lucky blonde. Blow. - All right.
I'm looking for a five, shooter! Five to stay alive.
Come on. Fuck, I lost.
- You just won me $12,000, blondie. Here. - Oh, my God.
- I can't accept this. - It's yours, blondie. Get in the game. Have some fun. Come on.
- What'll you do with that? You gonna gamble? - It's $1,000!
- "The hot one." Did you hear that? - It could be a lot more. I could coach you.
- "Lucky blonde." It's so sexist. - It's found money. What've you got to lose?
- $1,000, and that would not make me happy. What would make all of us happy, I believe is to go see ZZ Top in the Magic Carpet room.
I think I'm gonna pass. I got pay-per-view and a frozen Milky Way waiting for me in my room.
What? A minute ago, you were bouncing off the walls!
This is what I'm like nowadays. I stop for a minute, I have to lie down. Good night.
- You can't go to sleep! In five minutes, Charlotte turns 35 again! - Good night!
Charlotte went to sleep that night with a $1,000 chip on her shoulder.
As a rule, the easier a game is to understand the greater the house edge, and roulette is no exception. The house edge on all bets is 1/19 or 5.26%, except for a 0-00-1-2-3 combination which carries a house edge of 7.89%.
People go to casinos for the same reason they go on blind dates: Hoping to hit the jackpot. But mostly you just wind up broke or alone in a bar. If we know the house always wins, why gamble?
The next morning, Richard and Samantha awoke in the comfort of the Kubla Khan Suite.
How long do you think you'll be off with the girls?
- All day probably. What are your plans? - I haven't decided yet.
- I'm sorry to interrupt, Richard. - It's not a problem, Terry.
Apparently, there were no old maids at the Taj Mahal.
Terry, was it? That ought to be easy to remember. Terry, with her terrycloth towels.
Samantha had the distinct feeling she was being Kubla-conned.
- Thank you. - Samantha, you're not actually jealous of a casino cleaning lady, are you?
No. I just find it impressive that you seem to know the name and cup size of every woman who works here.
I know the male employees' names as well. It doesn't mean I'm gonna sleep with them. Aren't you keeping the girls waiting?
Hi, I'm Samantha. Can I get you some towels? A chocolate for your pillow? A blowjob?
Yes, but not necessarily in that order.
Meanwhile, Charlotte's encore 35th birthday was off to a running start. There she was, an old maid. And it wasn't funny.
Three hours later, I was still waiting for our foursome to come together.
- Here we go. This is the spin. - Yes, you're quite the spinster.
Sorry I'm late. I've been fucking Richard for the past three hours. I think he's fucked out now.
Is he still breathing?
It was defensive fucking. I had no choice. There are cheap-looking whores flying at him from every direction here.
There she was: "Miss Atlantic Slutty."
- Charlotte, are you in there? - No, but I think Harlot is.
I didn't like any of the clothes I packed, so I picked something up at one of the casino shops.
Those are for women who have lost all their money and have to turn tricks.
- Does this gal gamble? - Yeah! - Okay, let's go.
No wonder the house always wins. These guys are smothered in breasts. I don't know what I was thinking, bringing a cheating man to "Atlantic Titty."
- Put your bets down. - What you doing down there?
It's the pearl thong. It's good for foreplay. Not so good for post-play.
- All bets in? - You bet it all? - You gotta play big if you wanna win big.
Ma'am, would you like a hit? Over.
- We just lost big. - It's all part of the fun. We're gonna need your chip.
- Who, me? - You're sitting on $1,000. Don't make me hit the ATM again.
- Haven't we lost enough? - We're just getting started.
Are you playing this hand, or what?
Ladies, if you're not gonna play, you're gonna have to give up your seats.
It's okay, sir, we're leaving, but would you mind taking our picture first?
- Wait, I need lipstick. - I'm not allowed to do that.
Jesus Christ, it's not Disneyland. Hey, Red, move your fat ass.
- What did you just say to her? - Who the hell do you think you are?
- Fuck you. - Get in the game, or get out.
- Guys, let's go. It's okay. - No! It is most certainly not okay!
Listen, you big jerk, her ass isn't normally this big!
Yes. Thank you, I almost forgot. My ass is fat because I just had a baby, you asshole!
- What's your excuse? - Yeah. You having triplets? Come on, let's go.
The Lennox Lewis match sold out that night, but our heavyweight fight caused a bigger stir.
Guys, I think I'm gonna go upstairs.
Come on, they're just idiots. Don't go.
I'm tired. I'm sorry, Charlotte. Happy birthday.
Please stay. Come on, you can have my chip.
It's Richard. Hello. Really?
- Do you think I should go talk to her? - No, I think she'll be all right.
Sure, I'll go with one of the girls. Ciao! He had a sudden conference call and can't go to the fight. "Go with the girls." Right. So he can stay in the room and get serviced by room service. We'll see about that.
Under other circumstances, running stairs in a pearl thong would have been Samantha's idea of a good time. But by the eighth floor, somewhere between pissed off and getting off, she had to take it off.
Yes, thank you, I will.
- No one's here? - What's going on?
I can't do this anymore. That's what's going on. I just ran up eleven flights of stairs, because I was sure you were up here fucking someone else.
As you can see, I'm not.
Right now you're not. But you were, and you will again. And I can't spend my life running up and down stairs wondering when. I thought I could handle this, but I can't. I'm too old. I'm 37, after all.
I told you I'd do my best never to hurt you again, and I meant it.
Right. Your best.
Samantha, I love you.
I love you, too, Richard, but I love me more.
And there, high above the casino, Samantha pulled her highest bet, her heart, off the table.
And just when Samantha thought she might have folded too soon...
One drink here, and then we should see the boardwalk before it gets too dark.
- Can we buy you a drink? - Would you like to sit down?
- That would be nice. - No, we're fine.
- So, you having a good time? - Yes, actually, today is my birthday.
- Now it's your birthday. - Happy Birthday. So, what are your names?
- Can you just... one second? What is the point of this? - I thought you wanted a drink.
- Can I please have a word with you alone? - Sure. We'll be right back. It's Charlotte.
The one in black's cute.
I didn't leave Manhattan for a double date with two guys we'll never see again.
You don't know that. You didn't even talk to them.
I don't want to talk to them. I would rather have a real conversation with you.
Can't we just have one drink? It might be fun. They're gone.
Twenty minutes later, we were out of the dark and into the light.
Isn't this amazing? It's like a postcard from the '20s.
We couldn't have had one drink? What's the harm in having one drink?
I can't believe you're still upset about that. What role did you think they would play in our lives?
Who knows? We might have hit it off.
Come on. Let's look at the odds realistically. How many guys do we ever hit it off with? Very few, and even if we do, those relationships don't last. Even if they did, men die first, so we're back where we started. I say we skip all the drama and just enjoy each other's company...now.
But I don't want to skip all the drama. That's life, that's everything. That's relationships, and anniversaries, and kids. And I want all that, in addition to my friends.
That sounds wonderful, but don't bank on it happening. You must be getting cold. I'll meet you back at the hotel. I'm going to get some saltwater taffy.
- Are you sure? - Yeah, I'm dying for it.
“Watch the tram car, please.”
By my fifth piece of peppermint taffy, I realized maybe I wasn't banking on my friends. I was hiding in them.
You ready for a swim? Got your bathing suit on under there?
Yeah, it's a bikini. You'll love it.
I was kind of hoping for a skinny-dip.
You know there's nothing skinny about either of us. Should we go back?
In a minute. It's almost sunset.
You and your pink sky.
Then again, maybe there are some things worth gambling on.
Back inside, I had a thought. To hit the jackpot in the future, you might have to bet on where you are in the present.
Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets.
What happens after 36?
I don't know. I guess you fall off the table.
All right, no more bets. Here we go. Twenty-nine! The winner is number 29!
I can't believe you gambled all that money away. We could be in a limo right now.
You told me to. I thought we were taking the jet. You couldn't have broken up with him tomorrow?
What, lose my dignity?
Don't let me have any more of these.
- Anyone up for playing Old Maid? - Aren't we?
- I'm in. - I'm in.
- Oh, wait! - Oh, my God!
Excuse me, would you mind taking our picture?
This is a moment we're gonna want to remember.
Turns out it was.