You can count on one hand
the things a real New Yorker will wait for.
My list includes the perfect rent-controlled apartment,
the chocolate soufflé at Le Bernardin,
and the annual Manolo Blahnik sale.
After four sublime dates
with the furniture designer
whose kiss made my knees wea,
this New Yorker had waited long enough.
So mister, do you wanna sleep over?
I gotta feed Pete.
I gotta get up early in the morning.
Apparently, that New Yorker had not.
People always say when one door closes
another one opens.
At 2:00 a.m., the door that was opening
was Samantha's.
Can you believe it? This is terrible!
-What's going on? What if I came in late one night...
Freda Luftshein in 1-D was held up at gunpoint.
Oh, my God!
We have it under control, ma'am.
We have the suspect on tape.
But how did he get in?
This is supposed to be a safe building.
It was late. The doorman was off duty.
And apparently, he entered behind somebody's guest.
That's awful!
There he is!
Clearly, the guy came in
behind the guy who came in Samantha.
Oh, my, that's terrible.
Who has a guest at two in the morning?
I have no idea.
So what did everybody do last night?
-Nothing. -Nothing of note.
I don't wanna talk about it.
Why, what happened? You sleep with someone on the second date?
No, it was the third date.
It was Alexander Lemley, the investment banker
that I met at the Young Art Collectors show.
And what, the sex was bad?
No, it was good, except...
I don't think I can say it.
Oh, get over yourself.
C'mon, sweetie, what happened?
Well...
when he, you know.
Came, orgasmed, shot his wad.
Uh-huh. He said...
You fucking bitch, you fucking whore!
Why would he say that?
Maybe because you were fucking him.
Well, it's true, sweetie.
He didn't say it at the dry cleaners.
He said it when he was in you.
Do you think I'm a whore?
Oh, please!
If you're a whore, what does that make me?
Do you think I'm a whore?
Well, you have had a decent amount of bone in you.
This is bad! Nobody wants to marry a whore.
No, what's bad is that even Charlotte is having more sex than I am.
-What about Aidan? -What about Aidan?
I don't know what's going on.
Clearly, he's attractive,
we're spending a lot of time together,
he keeps asking me out.
But he doesn't wanna sleep with me.
-Gay. -No, he's not gay.
Mother issues?
No, I don't think so.
Maybe his dick curves to the right.
So if it does, we'll work it out.
I'll go left.
The thing is, I may never know.
Well, you better be careful,
you wait too long to sleep with someone,
you miss the window, and become just friends.
As opposed to his fucking bitch, his fucking whore.
Oh, c'mon.
If Samantha was right,
I had very little time left
before the relationship window closed forever.
So I wore my very little dress
that left very little to the imagination.
Do you wanna take this inside?
I better get home, I gotta do something--
Yeah, yeah, you gotta get up early,
the dog, whatever.
What's goin' on up there?
Do you just wanna be friends?
I don't know.
Is that how you kiss your friends?
So why don't you want to sleep with me?
I mean, whatever it is,
I'd rather know sooner than later.
I do wanna sleep with you.
I do.
Look at you.
But I've been down that road before.
I've slept with women, quickly, and I'm still single.
So my new thing is,
I just wanna try to sleep with somebody I care about.
I really think that I can care about you.
And it's only been a week and a half.
Don't people date anymore?
Why did I expect to sleep with him
after only a week and a half?
Had I become so jaded
that I didn't even recognize romance
when it kissed me on the lips?
Maybe modern women need a cheat sheet
to remind us romance isn't dead.
Romance!
I'm telling you, it didn't even occur to me
which is so depressing.
Is that what 13 years of dating in Manhattan
does to a woman?
I tell you what it does, it gives you chlamydia.
Excuse me?
Yeah.
My gynecologist called me today,
and my test, which she just threw in for good measure,
came back positive.
Yikes!
It's not terrible, there aren't any symptoms
but it can cause infertility,
so I guess it's good I caught it.
I mean, not that I caught it,
but that I found out.
Well, do you think you got it from Steve?
I don't know.
It's the first time I've been tested,
so it could be any number of guys,
which is what I said to my gynecologist,
and frankly, she seemed a little judgmental.
She told me I should contact all the people
that I might have given it to,
so they can all be treated.
I knew what was bothering Miranda.
It was the same thought that was bothering me
ever since the guy I'd been seeing for ten days
asked me to slow down.
If you're a thirty-something woman living in Manhattan,
and you refuse to settle, and you're sexually active,
it's inevitable that you'll rack up
a certain number of partners.
But how many men is too many men?
Are we simply romantically challenged, or...
are we sluts?
It was certainly the question on Charlotte's mind.
So how's your swordfish?
Fine, thanks.
You're awfully quiet tonight.
I'm sorry, my mind is somewhere else.
You fucking bitch, you fucking whore!
So like I was saying,
I hate putting people out of work,
but that's what happens after a merger, I...
Maybe I should teach ESL on the side, or...
Are you sure you're okay?
Actually...
what you said the other night,
kind of bothered me.
Oh, no, uh... what did I say?
You know, when we were in bed and you...
you yelled out something.
During my sleep?
No, during sex.
Oh.
I don't remember saying anything.
I remember it being very nice.
But what'd I say?
You know what? It's not important.
I'm sure it was just in the heat of the moment.
Never mind.
Do you wanna try some of my swordfish?
It really is good.
By dessert, Charlotte had decided to forget the whole incident
and call it a do-over.
You fucking bitch, you fucking whore!
That! That's what you said!
What?
Just then, you said it again.
What did I say?
You fucking bitch, you fucking whore!
Oh, my God, are you sure?
That's terrible, that's a horrible thing to say.
I had no idea.
I-I just get lost in the moment.
I-I certainly don't think that about you.
Hey, hey,
believe me, Charlotte.
You are sweet and smart
and lovely.
You are the kind of woman I hope to marry someday.
And I promise never to say that again.
God, that's terrible.
As Charlotte was starting to feel better,
Miranda was starting to feel worse.
-Steve? -Hmm?
Can we not?
What, I'm just getting started here. I'm only at the neck.
Maybe you'll change your mind when I'm down around the elbows.
I can't tonight, I have chlamydia.
I don't even know what that is, but it sounds like a problem.
It's, um...
It's not a big deal.
It's just a sexually transmitted disease.
And I might have given it to you,
or you might have given it to me.
Ba-boom!
Look, either way, you should probably get tested.
I'm afraid of doctors, I don't even have one anymore.
Well, go to the free clinic.
Whatever.
What's gonna happen to me?
Does it hurt when you pee or something?
No, men are just carriers,
there aren't any symptoms at all.
Then why do I need to know?
Because if you don't get treated,
you could pass it on to other people.
But you're my only other person
and you already have it.
Yeah, but see, if you've got it,
we'll just keep passing it back and forth.
Plus, I'd rather not sleep with you
until this thing is out of my body.
And I've got six more days of antibiotics.
So will you please just go take care of it.
Just go, get it over with.
Steve's trip to the doctor
didn't do much to cure his fear of doctors.
Drop your trousers.
No, there's nothing going on down there.
I'm just here because my girlfriend said to get the test.
I need a sample from the inside of your penis.
As Steve faced something every man dreads,
Miranda faced something every woman dreads.
She was making a list of all the men she'd slept with.
At least all the ones she could remember.
She started to wonder how she did all these men,
and did her law degree, and became a successful lawyer.
Samantha knew her number was up there,
but she didn't know everybody else knew.
We know it was you who buzzed in the gunman.
Excuse me?
You always have guests coming in.
Every time I'm in this elevator you're with a different man.
That's ridiculous!
This is your floor, ma'am.
Oh, yeah, um...
Excuse me.
The next day, Miranda's sex life was flashing before her as well.
Thanks, okay, sorry to bother you.
And congratulations! I guess now that you're married,
you don't have to worry about stuff like this.
Bye-bye.
Miss Hobbes, line two's still holding.
Miranda Hobbes.
Hi, it's David returning your call.
Oh, hi, David, how have you been?
Lousy, I'm partner now, and it's all work, no play. What do you want?
Ah, well, it's kind of awkward.
Well, I'm kind of busy, so spit it out. What is it?
Okay, I've got this...
It's chlamydia, which is like--
I know what chlamydia is.
Oh, well, perhaps you should get yourself tested.
I've been tested.
Recently?
Yes, is that it?
Ah, I guess, ah, no!
Did you have it?
How's that your business?
You call me after months of not talking,
and you wanna discuss my health?
Yes, I had it!
So what?
So perhaps you gave it to me.
What are you gonna do, sue me?
You know, you could at least have called me.
Well, you told me never to call you again!
And now, I remember why, bye!
Meanwhile, I was still waiting
for the diagnosis on my relationship.
Would Aidan become friend or boyfriend?
Delivery for Miss Bradshaw.
Well, it's about time, I ordered this years ago.
Ooh!
He certainly kissed like a boyfriend.
Don't you have two matching plates?
No.
What do you use for wine, promotional coffee mugs?
Ah!
But he teased me like a friend.
Oh, come here, you got a little something.
Boyfriend...
I don't care what anybody says,
I think Catherine Zeta-Jones is hot.
Friend...
Not as hot as you, but she's hot.
Boyfriend, and liar.
I think Samantha was right.
About what?
Me and Aidan.
I think we're just friends who kiss occasionally.
Why are you whispering?
Because he's still here.
Well, that sounds promising.
He's been in the bathroom for half an hour.
Eww.
All we did was eat Chinese take-out,
and watch Zorro .
And now, I'm working
and he's reading a paper
on the John or something.
This isn't romance, this is bullshit.
Carrie?
Yeah?
Come here a sec.
I have to go, my "friend" wants to see me in the bathroom.
Bye.
What did you want, because...
Wow.
It's like a Danielle Steel novel in here.
Oh, from a writer,
I'm pretty sure that's an insult.
No, this is...
wow.
Well, I thought a bath would help you relax.
You seem kind of tense.
Are you sure this isn't just a cheap ploy
to see me naked?
Will you be naked?
That's the thing about baths.
Well, this is about you, so enjoy.
I'm gonna get going.
That doesn't make us friends, 'cause,
I'll be thinking about you naked.
Big tub, little person.
You talked me into it.
So now what?
Now what what? We're just taking a bath.
Oh, fuck it, let's just do it.
No, this isn't how it's supposed to happen.
You said this was just a bath.
C'mon, who cares?
You do, and I do too, now.
Okay, everybody, out of the tub.
The next night, Samantha was feeling exposed.
Shh, here she comes!
Good evening.
Hello.
If you want to say something about me,
say it to my face.
You're bad for the building.
What?
You have too many visitors.
There are always men in the hall.
I got robbed because of you.
Tart!
I can't close my left eye.
They practically chased me with torches
like I was Fuckingstein!
Oh, relax, they can't evict you for having sex.
Oh, of course not, they're just jealous.
They're a bunch of dried up old farts
who haven't had sex since Eisenhower!
And I remind them of what they can't have.
It might be time to move.
No, you can't move! You have a rent-controlled apartment
on the upper east side!
Honey, this isn't rent control,
this is life control.
I have to go, I have another date tonight with Aidan.
A date?
Don't tell me you're not having sex yet.
We're not having sex yet.
Then, what are you doing?
Well, tonight, for example,
we're going to a Blues club.
Who's singing, you?
Hmm. Listen, we'll have sex eventually.
And by the way, I got a little preview,
and I assure you,
there is no curving in any direction.
It is straight. Very, very, straight.
That night, Charlotte had a date as well.
And he was doing his best to be the strong, silent type.
What's the matter?
I'm afraid to come.
Oh, what are you talking about?
I'm close.
Go ahead.
You fucking bitch, you fucking whore!
Oh, I hate myself! What's wrong with me?
That night, Alexander decided to stop seeing Charlotte
and start seeing a therapist.
And Steve got his test back.
It was negative, like the rest of the experience.
I'm telling you, that doctor with the swab,
ouch!
I don't even wanna swab my ears anymore.
Steve, it's my fault.
I'm the one with the disease.
I'm a big, dirty, diseased whore.
Hey, that's my girlfriend you're talking about.
Yeah, well, you know what?
I had to make a list of all the guys I've slept with
and, uh, it's not short.
How not short?
It's... no, I can't tell you.
I've never told anybody my number.
What? I'm just curious.
You promise you won't judge me?
Look who you're talking to.
I spent a day at the free clinic.
Okay, it's like, about... 42.
Forty-two, that's not so bad.
That's too many.
No, it, it's fine.
What's your number?
No, no, I'm not telling you.
C'mon!
No, it's embarrassing.
I've had enough embarrassment for one week.
What is it?
It's ten.
Higher.
Sixty.
Higher.
Higher than 60?
-A lot higher?
Hey, I'm a bartender, and I'm cute.
Note, men who have had a lot of sexual partners
are not called sluts.
They're called very good kissers.
A few are even called romantics.
Well, I can't believe you've never been
to the Blue Note before.
You call yourself a New Yorker.
I've never done a lot of things.
I can think of one thing in particular.
Mmm...
Nope, that I've done.
Oh, I can think of one other thing.
What do you think about me staying the night?
Well, I don't know, what about Pete?
Well, I arranged for the super's kid
to walk Pete and feed him.
And you knew this all night?
Come on in.
And then something weird happened.
For the first time in a long time,
I was nervous.
Aidan and I were going to sleep together,
and it was going to mean something.
I was no virgin,
but this was definitely virgin territory.
Good morning.
Okay, that's what I wanted, bye.
Aw!
The nice thing about a new relationship,
it's a clean slate.
And speaking of clean slates,
Samantha moved to the hot and trendy Meatpacking District.
-Good morning, ladies. -How you doin', sweetheart?
Where whores were whores, men were women,
and rents were much, much higher.
Okay, bring it right in here.
Easy, that's my bed, come on!