Sex and the City Season 3 Episode 4

304. Boy, Girl, Boy, Girl

It's been said that New Yorkers are the most jaded people in the world. The fact is we've pretty much done and seen it all. It takes quite a bit to shock us, which is why Charlotte said that her new show at the gallery would totally blow us away, we took it with the proverbial grain of salt.
Seriously, that's a woman?
It was the latest installation from photographer Baird Johnson entitled "Drag Kings - "The collision of illusion and reality".
Yep, that's a woman.
Look at that bulge, it's shocking.
Hurry up and look before Giuliani shuts it down.
- What do you guys think? - It's amazing. Congratulations.
Women dressing like men are very popular right now.
I thought it was "Pokemon".
I don’t know. Wasn’t it easy? All it takes is stick-on sideburns and a sock in your pants.
That's some sock.
I've always had a thing for cowboys.
Reminder, John Wayne is a Jane.
My God. I'm attracted to her. Maybe I'm a lesbian.
I once dated a guy who liked to wear my underwear. But I've never gone the other way.
If you're gay everyone can wear everyone's underwear.
That's hygienic?
Being a drag king would be fun.
I have enough trouble figuring out how to be a woman in a man's world without trying to be a woman pretending to be a man in a man's world.
At least you wouldn’t have to wax. By the way, if you change your mind, you've got cop written all over you.
Am I rich yet?
Getting there. Everyone. This is Baird, the artist. These are my friends.
What inspired you to do this?
I feel we have dual powers within each of us. Men can be very female, and women can be very male. Gender's an illusion. Sometimes a very beautiful illusion.
You know, I'm gonna go and get a canape. Because, I'm starved, so... Not that a canape is a meal. But, you a pinch.
Excuse us. What was that about? Nobody loves canapes that much.
He makes me nervous.
- The drag king stuff? - I think he is...
- Ask him out. - I can’t. I can never make the first move.
Sounds like someone needs a sock in the pants.
I'm gonna drag myself home. You wanna share a cab?
No, I'm meeting Sean.
- The young guy? - He's not that young.
He's 26. His generation has a totally different letter than ours.
Who cares? Age is an illusion.
- Good night. - Good night.
Later, Miranda was shocked to find her apartment had undergone a gender transformation of its own.
What are you doing here?
I got a key from when I fed your cat the other time. I ordered us Chinese.
I didn’t think we were seeing each other tonight.
Planning on seeing the other boyfriend, will you?
Now you've ruined that...This is what we're watching? Give me that.
Easy, you're making my brain hurt.
Don’t you have to work tonight?
Not until 10:00. I've got stuff here I can change into.
But I got till 10:00.
Miranda absolutely loved the man inside of her. She just didn’t love him inside her apartment all the time.
Come on, the ice waits for no woman.
I'm practicing my triple salchow in my head.
A little while later, I was being dragged around by Sean, my "generation-something-else" date. We met at a downtown party, celebrating a new internet magazine Sean was running that I still couldn’t find on my computer.
Seriously, stop!
I guess it's easier to balance when you're not smoking.
Smoking is the only thing that keeps me balanced.
Doesn’t this place rock?
You have to give me a little credit for an original date.
I don’t believe it's officially a date without cocktails.
My coach is gonna kill me.
Half a flask of Jin Beam later, Sean and I had really broken the ice or at least my ass had.
- That last fall was at least a 9.2. - You and the Russian judge...tough.
There was something about him. He was sexy, charming, sexy, coordinated. Nothing about him or our third date felt typical.
Carrie, again, when was your last serious relationship?
Until then...there it was. The inevitable third-date question.
Bad question? You wanna take another spin around the death rink?
No, it's fine. It's fine. I ended something a while ago. Two years of a lot of back and forth. Apparently we weren’t Y2K compatible.
What about you?
Before you there was Kayla. Neurotic. Lasted a year. Before her, Lesley, couldn’t commit. Before Lesley there was Mark. Is that a problem?
He's a bisexual.
I could have told you that. He took you ice-skating for god's sake.
The weird thing is he was so open about it. "Hi. I'm a bisexual." Like, "Hi, I'm from Colorado or something".
I don’t think you're allowed to be bisexual in Colorado.
"Is that a problem?" What kind of question is that problem?
- Of course it's a problem! - What did you say?
I said it wasn’t a problem. I panicked. He's such a good kisser.
That generation is all about sexual experimentation. All the kids are going bi.
So what? If all the Bi kids jump off a bridge, you're gonna do that too?
I'm a "try-sexual". I'll try anything once.
When did this happen? When did the sexes get all confused?
Somewhere between Gen X and Y, they blended and made XY.
I did the "date the bisexual guy" thing in college. But in the end they all ended up with men.
So did the bisexual women.
Which explains why there are no available men left for us.
Maybe I do have a problem with this. I'm an old fart.
Correction: A hot old fart.
I'm not even sure bisexuality exists. It's just a layover on the way to Gaytown.
Isn’t that where next to Ricky Martinville?
I think it's great. He's open to all sexual experiences. He's evolved. It's hot.
It's not hot. It's greedy. He's double-dipping.
You're not marrying the guy, you're making out with him. Enjoy, don’t worry about the label.
You're right.
I'm very into labels. Gay. Straight. Pick a side and stay there.
Where are you going?
Home. I've got a date with my remote control.
Steve's playing basketball. That means at least three hours of uninterrupted alone time.
- What about my problem? - Stop kissing him.
Easy for her to say.
That night, I couldn’t get Samantha's words out of my head. Was Sean's generation on to something? Was sexual flipping the wave of the future? If it was, could I play that game or was I over the hill? If women can transform into men, and men can become women and we can choose to sleep with everyone, then maybe gender doesn’t even exist anymore. If we can take the best of the other sex and make it our own, has the opposite sex become obsolete?
Don’t bust my balls. If you call yourself a fucking head-hunter, then get me a decent assistant.
- Yeah? - I'm looking for a Mrs. Jones.
- It's Miss. - I'm here for the assistant job.
Please, come in.
Samantha hired Matt five minutes later. She was the man of the office, but she figured she could always make room for one more. Meanwhile downtown, Charlotte could have used some help herself.
Someone is being industrious.
Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.
I was in the neighborhoods I thought I'd come by and scare the shit out of you. Pick up my cheque for the pieces I sold.
- Here. - Thanks.
There's something else. I've been thinking about this. I would love to have you pose for me.
- As a man? - Yeah, you'd be great.
- No, I don’t think so. - Why not?
- I'm not... - A model?
No, butch.
You'd be surprised. Every woman has a male inside her. Even you.
No, not me. I'm really bad at math and I can’t change a tire to save my life.
Pose for me. I'll get it out of you. Come on, be a man.
The next night, Sean took me to a club so new, even I hadn’t heard of it.
- What's the name of this place? - "Hair".
- Like the musical. - Like the stuff on your head.
- You're too cool for me. - You're too cute for me.
Ten seconds of making out and I could almost forget Sean's lack of sexual orientation. Until we stopped kissing…
Who are you checking out, the guy or the girl?
Carrie, I was looking for the bathroom.
Oh. Sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry, this whole bisexual thing is kinda throwing me for a loop. You've been with men and you've been with women. Were you just looking at that guy?
I'm looking at you. I'm with you. I dig you.
- "Dig" is in again? - So is "groovy". You're that too.
So, you're not gay?
I am not gay. I've been in three major relationships. One happened to be with a guy, Ok? That's just me.
An hour later, Sean was in my bed. That's just me.
- Nice floor. - Thanks. It's a rental.
- What? - Nothing.
Tell me or I'll make you go skating again.
- Do I kiss better than a guy? - Better than any I've kissed. How about me?
- Top two per cent. - I'll take that.
If there was this really good-looking guy walking towards you, and across the street was a beautiful girl, which one...
Carrie, come on. Could you stop making this all about sex? It's not. It's about the I'm crazy about you. The way you smell. The way your upper lip tastes.
It may not have been all about sex, but it was for the next two hours.
I wasn’t the only woman with spot of younger men on the brain.
Listen to me. We've called your boss three times already. I am not leaving word again. Give him that message. Hello. What are you doing?
- That is not how I do business. - The bitch makes me crazy.
I don’t care. These are important clients. You can’t talk to them like that.
You want them to call you back or not?
Maybe I need to remind you that I am the boss here.
So fire me. I just think you deserve some respect. That's all.
Put this in the Benefit file.
Samantha found Matt's boyish arrogance annoying, unprofessional and incredibly hot.
Meanwhile Miranda was having her own problem sharing a confined space with the other sex.
- What? What's going on? - You're on my side. My pillow. My guest pillow.
OK, I'll tell you what. Tomorrow we'll go buy some paint and draw a line down the middle for you. Go to sleep.
That pile. Your stuff. You have to keep it neater.
Maybe if you can spare a drawer, or box or something I can keep my underwear out of the way.
You want a drawer?
Actually... I'd like to move in.
Most single women dream of this moment. Most single women but Miranda.
Wow! OK. Where did that come from?
I've been thinking about it. We have a great time together. We're practically live together anyway...
Yeah, but we're not. Look. We just started dating again. There is no need to go at warp speed here. Nobody's dying. I'm sure every book would say we're not ready. You're here all the time.
No problem. I'll get out of your hair. I'll leave the key.
No! Don’t leave the key. Take the key. I just... I need my space. I feel like I'm being suffocated.
Jesus, Miranda. It's like you're the guy sometimes.
Faced with relationship problems, some women turn to fried food. Miranda decided to turn to the Manhattan's latest fitness craze, "The Goddess Workout".
Ladies, open up your chakras. Let the inner goddess sing. She's in there. All you have to do is let her out.
- This is gonna help you to be a woman? - I'm gonna find my inner goddess if it kills me.
And pop your hip. Pop your hip. Open yourself like a lotus flower. Come on, pop your hip. Pop your hip.
- You see. My hips don’t pop, I'm a guy. - You're insane.
This isn’t helping me find my inner goddess, this is making me find my inner humiliation.
And reach back. Reach for the stars.
We're out of here.
I'm never gonna be a girly girl. I never will. I'm never gonna be a lotus flower.
May I just say, thank God.
A girly girl would want her boyfriend to move in.
She also wears make-up to the gym.
And makes little hearts above her "I”s. I do love him... I do.
- I know. - What's my problem?
In any relationship one person is the alpha dog. The one in charge...that's you. You don’t like sharing your water dish.
- I'm very free with the chew toys. - That you are.
Miranda arrived home later to an empty apartment. And for the first time, she really didn’t like it. While Miranda and I worked out our inner goddesses, Baird was working the male out of Charlotte.
- You look great. - I'm sorry, I can’t do this.
Just relax. Let it go. Forget Charlotte. You're a man now. You're a hot guy. You can get any woman you want. You're rich, you're powerful. You eat guys like me for lunch. How are you feeling now?
- I think I need a bigger sock. - I think you do, too.
- Better? - Much.
Who knows whether it was the sock or the suit or Baird? Suddenly Charlotte wasn’t just a chick with a dick; she was a chick with balls. Unfortunately the two alpha dogs at Samantha's office were not getting along as well.
These invitations need to go to the printers ASAP.
I'll get to it.
Now. Drop them at 72nd Street then pick up lunch.
They're in opposite directions. I'll get lunch first.
- No. Invitations first. - Fine, then I'll be an hour late.
Do you realize you're my assistant? Your job is to do what I say no matter what.
- I know what I'm doing. - And I know better.
- Say's who? - Me.
- Who do you think you are? - Your boss.
Samantha Jones' PR. I don’t know when she will. She's been busy. You have a shitty attitude too. And your parties suck.
The bad news is, you're fired. The good news is... now I can fuck you.
Samantha discovered the only place she and Matt worked well together was in bed.
Fuck me on the desk.
- No, on the chair. - No, on the desk.
With Sam on top, naturally.
That night, Miranda invited Steve over for pasta I'll bake time.
- Hi. I'm late. I know I'm late. - It's OK.
It's not OK. I was gonna make you dinner and then this conference call went over like two hours. I went to the market. The recipe calls for extra virgin olive oil. They only had virgin. And how the hell do I know the difference. I don’t even cook. So I just grabbed the whole thing and got the stuff in a jar. I am late.
Don’t move. It's glass.
I can’t. I can’t do this.
Of course you can. We'll order pizza, it's no big deal.
It's a big fucking deal. I just spilled Marinara sauce over myself and you're here and you saw that.
I drop things, OK?
OK. So do l.
I do love you. But I've never lived with anybody before. And I'm stubborn. And I like the remote. And I can’t cook. I don’t do laundry sometimes for like two weeks. And my sponges smell. You're gonna see all that. I'm scared. I don’t know if I can move forward, but I really don’t want to lose you.
OK. I'm not going anywhere.
I'm crying on your shoulder. I guess I really am a woman.
A week later, Miranda's man moved into her place. The same day that Charlotte moved her man into her place. She never saw Baird again. She was too embarrassed at how forward she'd been. She realized she might have been that type of guy, but she’d never be that type of woman.
80 blocks downtown and five flights up, Sean and I had almost made it to the party.
I swear one more floor, I promise.
If there's no vodka at the end of this, it's your head.
- Take it easy, dude, we're here. - OK, dude.
- Who's party is this? - Mark's.
Mark, ex-boyfriend Mark?
Is that a problem? It's his boyfriend's birthday.
It was definitely a first. I was attending a party of my sort of boyfriend's ex-boyfriend. And his boyfriend.
Carrie, this is Mark and his boyfriend Garth.
- Partner. Nice to meet you. - This is our baby, Isabell. Two "L's", no "E".
OK. Happy birthday.
- Thank you. This is Dawn and Grace. - They just got married in Hawaii.
- It was totally a spur of the moment. - I didn’t want another big wedding like my first.
- It wasn’t so bad. - Being married to you the sucked.
- You two were... - Married. For a like year.
We were high for most of itself, otherwise it would've been miserable.
Don’t forget I gave you that egg.
This is our talking straight friend, Joel.
- Are you wearing pleather? – Yes, I am. Thank you for noticing.
An hour later, I had almost got it straight.
- Grace once dated Brett. And Brett used to live with Joel? - Semi-platonically.
- You slept with Dawn. - Before she was with Mark.
Gay, bi, straight. This party was a veritable pool platter of sexual orientation.
Time to play.
- Play what? - Spin the bottle.
Seriously seventh grade spin the bottle, that one?
- Yes, come and play. - Come on, it's fun.
- Get a room. - Get a dental dam.
- It's a girl. Try again. - It's OK.
Of course it was OK. I was in Alice-In-Confused-Sexual-Orientation-Land. I realized I had a choice. I could stand up, walk out and prove I was an old fart. Or I could fall down the rabbit hole. So I fell. It wasn’t bad. Kind of like chicken.
- Where are you going? It's your spin. - Just more cigarettes.
That was the last night I saw Sean. I realized they could do whatever they wanted, but deep down I was too old to play this game. So I took my hot, old fart-ass home. That's just me.


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