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What?
In life, there are all sorts of wake-up calls.
But crowing on East 73rd Street
was one I was not prepared for.
It was my own fault.
I'd let my frenzy for a rent-controlled apartment near Barneys,
override the fact that it was animal hospital adjacent.
That's the thing about New York - you never know what's just around the corner.
Or, in Samantha's case, just outside your window.
There they were - Samantha's neighbourhood, transsexual hookers.
Half man, half woman, totally annoying.
Girl, she got herself a handful with that one!
He was all up in my stuff once.
I told him to get that thing out of my ass or I'll shit on it.
"Get that out my ass, or I'll shit on it." Is that the dirtiest thing you've ever heard?
Let's hope so!
I am paying to live in a neighbourhood
that's trendy by day, and tranny by night.
Transsexuals. Chicks with dicks.
Boobs on top, balls down below.
- I don't get the appeal there. - It's the other white meat.
I understand that pseudo-straight men have to get laid, but not on my block.
I thought my chickens were bad.
Every morning at 4:00 am they start up. It's like they're putting on a show.
The "Up-my-ass Players".
Too early for tranny talk?
It's so weird to be sitting here eating omelette again
like nothing ever happened.
It was our first Saturday morning breakfast
since Charlotte had left Trey, her husband of three months.
I was married. And now, what? I'm single again?
- You're not single, you're just separated. - That's right.
I'll never be single again... I'll be divorced.
The only thing worse than being 34 and single is being 34 and divorced.
Nice.
I think it's worse to be 34 and trapped in a marriage that doesn't work.
- Didn't I try hard enough? - "Hard" is the word.
Sweetie, Trey has an impotence problem...
I am so sick of talking about Trey. I think and talk about Trey all the time.
Change the subject, please. Talk about the "up my ass" stuff.
OK, here's the plan.
Sunday night, we all come over, have an unpacking party and no Trey-talk.
I'll bring the cocktails.
I'll bring the food. How about roof-chicken?
Can I help you?
I live around the corner and my window
looks over the roof with the chickens and the crowing...
- Roosters. - Excuse me?
They are roosters. Roosters crow.
Yes, they do. And very loudly.
I'm so sorry. We just got them. Rescued from a cockfight in the Bronx.
- My God. - I'll have them moved to the basement.
You don't have to do that. They had all that fight-trauma.
They need fresh air. I don't want them to be miserable.
Don't worry. They have a very lovely life.
That's all right. I'll get over it.
Thank you for being so nice.
Just gonna take one of these for my friend. She has a cat.
Are you hungry?
Yeah? I'm hungry too.
- Shanghai Garden. May I help you? - I'd like to order some take-out.
- Address, please. - 331 West 78th Street. Apartment 4F.
I'd like to order some chicken with broccoli in a brown...
Brown sauce, with brown rice. Cold noodles.
I know. Every night the same.
Right.
The Chinese take-out lady thinks I'm pathetic.
She said: "Every night, the same thing."
That's a tad bitchy for a take-out lady.
- Do you think I'm in a rut? - A food-rut?
I'm sitting home with my cat, ordering the same thing almost every night.
The only thing sadder would be to have a Cathy Comic on my refrigerator door.
Never say Cathy Comic to me again.
She giggled at me. The take-out lady.
Order from someplace else. There is like 600 Chinese places on your block.
This place is my favourite. It's easier than figuring out where else to go.
Then bear the take-out food shame.
There they were. Our ex-boyfriends.
What are they doing together? Are they friends now?
Apparently. This is bad.
What do you think they are talking about? Their dogs?
Yeah, here's their conversation: "How's your dog? Good, yours?
Was that the bitches who ruined our lives?"
They didn't see us.
We have a choice. We can either run the other way or move into this building.
We can't run.
Your shoe-straps will break.
- How do I look? - Good. Great!
You look great too.
Thank God I didn't wear my drawstring pants.
Look who it is!
That's another thing about New York. You never know who is around the corner.
This is what I like about New York. Street-traffic.
Well, look at you.
Look who it is, Pete.
My God! Look how big he got.
He starts college next year.
You must be very proud.
Two beers at a time. Did Miranda and I give you guys a drinking problem?
They are not just for us.
I'll have nightmares about that ladies room for weeks.
Carrie and Miranda, this is Jessica and Susan.
Hello.
Honey, do you still wanna see the movie or just crash?
I don't care.
- We have to go. - Yeah, we gotta go.
It was good to see you, Aidan.
Come on, this way.
That night at Charlotte's, some light unpacking and some heavy realisations.
Well, they are over us.
It's just so hilarious.
I'm haemorrhaging inside.
We thought they were sitting there, pining, and they have new girlfriends already!
- Were they cute? - The point is not if they were cute.
The point is, they were there.
- They were cute. - Very cute.
How can they have new relationships?
I'm still in the "I just broke up with someone" phase.
It's infuriating. Women sit around obsessing about what went wrong.
Men just say "all righty" and move on.
I take offence at that generalisation. Not all women sit around and obsess about men.
As soon as my relationships are over, I move on.
- Relationships? - You know, dates.
I do try to figure out what went wrong. But I don't think that I obsess.
You are Miss Obsess. Big?
Big was tricky. I still don't know what happened there.
You should have a relationship rear-view mirror.
Relationships may appear closer than they actually are.
I didn't obsess about Aidan. Aidan was clear. He moved on.
- It's much easier for men to move on. - Is it?
Oh, please! The ratio of women to men in this city is huge.
They can sit outside, have a beer
and wait for the Jessicas and Susans to come to them.
Maybe we only obsess over relationships that feel unfinished.
I can guarantee that Trey isn't sitting around with his friends,
obsessing about what went wrong.
Men never think anything is their fault.
I wish there were no men.
Call someone, she's gone insane.
If there were no men, then we wouldn't feel hurt.
And we wouldn't be disappointed.
And we wouldn't be spending our entire night obsessing about them.
I'm so over men.
What? I am.
Later that night I got to thinking about men and women and relationships.
Or more to the point, how women feel men disappoint them in relationships.
Then a radical, almost earth-shattering thought popped into my head.
What if everything isn't the man's fault?
After a certain age and a certain number of relationships,
if it still isn't working and the ex's seem to be moving on and we don't,
perhaps the problem isn't the last boyfriend,
or the one before him or even the one before him.
Could it be, that the problem isn't them,
but horror of horrors, is it us?
Downtown, the "Up-my-ass Players" were in the middle of their late night repertory.
"Much Ado About Up My Ass" and "Long Day's Journey Up My Ass".
Samantha decided if she was gonna get a good night's sleep,
she'd have to test how effective a PR professional she was.
Ladies, hello.
I live right up there, the loft within earshot.
As much as I respect a woman's right
for a little something with certain New Jersey gentlemen,
I have a request.
I have a very early business meeting.
And I think we all know,
there are certain dark circles even the best make-up tricks can't cover.
Am I right?
Sorry to wake you, baby. We'll take it down here.
I appreciate it. By the way, I'm Samantha.
- Destiny. - Chyna.
- Jo. - No "e". She got the "e" cut off.
Those heels are fierce, Miss Girl.
Don't I know it.
Samantha always knew how to get her way with men, even if they were half women.
What?
Rough night?
- Who is this? - It's me.
I didn't recognise your voice. You sounded different.
Did I wake you? It's only 11:30.
No, I was up late working.
And there were these goddamn chickens that crow on the roof next door.
Roosters. Roosters crow.
The "Fun On The Farm" fact everyone seems to be aware of but me.
- So tell me, is red a mistake? - In what way?
I'm repainting my bedroom.
- A red bedroom? - Just one wall.
But I think it's too red.
It's like sleeping in communist China.
She left... We ended it.
- I heard. - You did? How?
I think it was on the news.
Could we have lunch sometime?
I really need to talk to you.
- Please? - Where?
The Boathouse restaurant, Central Park. How about Saturday at 2:00?
- Carrie? - I'm nodding.
- So I'll see you at 2:00 then. - Bye.
Later that day, I met Miranda at my favourite thrift store,
to dig for buried treasure.
Do you think I can get away with a "hang in there, baby" halter top?
Nobody gets away with a "hang in there, baby" halter top.
Do you wanna go to the Hopper exhibit Saturday afternoon?
I can't. I have to work.
I lied. I don't have to work.
I'm meeting Big for lunch and I didn't think you'd approve.
- You're meeting Big? - He called.
- He sounded upset and needed to talk. - Since when does Big talk?
What does that mean?
He's upset about Natasha leaving...
I'm not holding your hand through this again.
I'm not asking you to hold my anything. We're just having lunch.
It's a huge mistake.
It's not a huge mistake, it's lunch.
How many more times are you gonna go through this? He is bad for you.
Every time you get near him you turn into this pathetic, needy victim.
What pisses me off is that you are more than willing to go back for more.
I am not going back for more and I can't even believe...
I can't believe you would say that to me.
- If you start up with Big again... - I am not starting up with Big again.
If you do, I don't wanna know anything about it.
No calls. No crying.
Are you gonna cut me out of your life like you did to Steve?
What?
First sign of any little weakness or flaw and you just write people off.
My God, Miranda. You are so judgmental.
You can say that I'm pathetic and needy and I can't say anything to you?
Everybody is not as tough as you, Miranda.
People... Some of us make mistakes.
That's just perfect. Walk away.
It's all my fault.
Right there, next to the 2 for $5 bin,
Miranda and I had our first big fight.
You have no messages.
I thought by the time I got home, she would have left an apology on my machine.
I was gonna call her, but wasn't quite sure of what to say.
Or whose fault it really was.
And at the exact same moment across town,
Miranda was preparing to make the call she'd been dreading all day.
Shanghai Garden. May I help you?
I'd like to order some take out.
Address, please.
331 West 78th Street, Apartment 4F. I'd like some...
Chicken with broccoli, brown sauce, brown rice and cold noodles, right?
You know what? I don't need this. Never mind.
OK. Bye-bye.
After she hung up, Miranda couldn't get the giggle out of her head.
She decided to walk the two blocks to confront the woman
with the judgmental giggle who thought she was better than her.
Shanghai Garden. May I help you?
OK. Address, please.
224 West 78th... Sorry, 73.
Miranda realised the giggle wasn't about her at all. It wasn't about anything.
It wasn't the noodles that kept her coming back to this particular restaurant.
It was the fact that this had been their place and it was filled with happy memories.
Twice in one week. Am I lucky or what?
- I thought I got custody of this place. - I like their hot and sour soup.
Are you here by yourself? Me too. Sit down.
I've got this bowl of crunchies that I'll never get through.
How are you?
Not good. Carrie and I had a huge fight.
About what?
Me, her, you, Big... Me.
My judgmental stuff. How bad was it?
- It wasn't good. - Steve, I didn't throw you away. Did I?
- No. - She said I did.
Miranda... Only you and I can ever really know what happened between you and I.
It's nobody else's business.
But she said that, huh? Must've been pretty mad.
I didn't say nice things to her either. I just don't want her to get hurt again.
So you yelled at her?
Yeah.
Sounds about par.
I guess your new girlfriend doesn't yell.
No.
How's that going?
It's OK.
- Like to order? - Yes, I'd like the chicken with broccoli...
Let me see the menu. I should try something new.
You should. Go ahead. Live a little.
There is so much.
You're so fucking hot.
I can't believe they go away for one night and then back three in a row.
Forget them. Look at me.
I'm sorry. I'm here.
Where are those cops? I called them half an hour ago.
Look at me. Let's bring it on home.
I can't.
- I'm close. - Well, I'm not.
The idea that she'd miss a night's sleep, pissed Samantha off.
The idea that she'd miss an orgasm, was more than she could bear.
Shut up, you bitches! I've called the cops.
Suck my cock!
Keep talking and I'll come down there and cut it off for you.
I'd like to see you try, motherfucker. You think we want that BS? No way!
Are you gonna pull a Lorena Bobbit?
$7,000 a month and I have to put up with this, talking to fucking trannies?
I don't fucking think so!
I am a taxpayer and a member of the Young Women's Business Association.
- I don't have to put up with this shit! - Forget them and come back to bed.
There was nothing anyone could do to stop her. Samantha was obsessed.
She had a date with Destiny, Chyna and Jo, no "e".
Take this, ladies!
I'm gonna come up there and kick your ass, bitch!
Get off my hair now!
Move it along, girls.
You heard the man, move it along.
Hey, where are you going?
Home. You freak me out.
And Uptown, Charlotte was a bit freaked out as well.
Unable to sleep and unable to unpack,
she was spending time with the only man she could tolerate - The Dalai Lama.
- Charlotte? It's me. - Trey?
What are you doing here? It's 4:00 am.
I saw your light on from the street. I figured you'd still be up.
What do you want?
Ever since you left, I can't stop thinking about you.
- Honey, we're separated. - I know.
It seems, once Charlotte swore off men, this man couldn't get enough of her.
He wasn't a rooster and it wasn't the Bronx, but from somewhere deep inside,
Trey's cock began to crow.
Across town, I was still wide awake.
I couldn't get my fight with Miranda out of my head.
Turns out, I was not only capable of obsessing about relationships with men,
I was capable of obsessing about relationships with women.
East Side Animal Shelter. Please leave a message.
This is your neighbour who complained about the chickens.
I'm leaving a message 'cause I can't take it any more. Move them in. Thanks.
I figured if they had a lovely life, I was entitled to the same thing.
Well...
All righty.
I knew that was in me somewhere.
You did?
I just hadn't felt it since before...
Why did you stop yourself? Before what?
Since before we got engaged.
Oh.
Yeah. Oh.
Do you think our whole problem had to do with the fact that...
What?
Say it.
- You didn't really wanna marry me. - No.
I think it may be due to the fact that I didn't want to get married to anybody.
- Then why did you? - I guess I thought it was time.
I'm of a certain age, people expect you to get married.
Yes, well... That sounds familiar.
- One other thing... - What?
I married you because I knew I'd never find anyone as wonderful as you to marry.
He may have gone away, the transsexual,
but he came back, loaded with eggs.
Now who's laughing, bitch?
Samantha knew this was one relationship with a man she couldn't walk away from.
Because this man was half woman.
- Good, you're there. - I was just gonna call you.
Do you really think I'm pathetic?
No, I'm so sorry. I don't think you're pathetic at all.
I'm outside the restaurant, hiding in some bushes.
Do you still not think I'm pathetic?
I know you think it's a huge mistake.
It's just something I feel I need to do to move on.
Don't listen to me. I have no idea what's right for you and Big.
But if I'm wrong and it is a huge mistake, I need to know you'll be there for me.
I'm there.
I'm going in. Any last minute advice?
Don't let him kiss you. That seems to be where you get into trouble.
- Carrie? - I'm nodding.
Hello, you.
It's good to see you.
Are you OK?
My hair is in a duck pond.
My Dior purse.
I'll get it.
Oh, my God! What is that?
- How was your shower? - I no longer smell of pond.
Exactly how many terry-cloth robes do you have?
- Three or four. - Oh, three or four.
I swore I would never be in this room with you again.
You said to take you to the nearest shower.
That is one red wall.
Yes, it's red.
I gotta ask you a question.
- Was it all my fault? - No.
It wasn't all your fault.
We really screwed that up. What were we thinking?
I have no idea.
Fuck. I was counting on you for answers.
- How are you doing, kid? - Pretty good. How are you doing?
Good.
Beside for the fact I feel like I've been through a war.
We really were war buddies. War buddies in Calvin Klein robes.
I hate to admit this, but I kind of like living alone again.
Why doesn't that surprise me?
- I should go. - Don't you want to stay a while?
I can't.
Why?
Because, sweet friend,
you and I are like that red wall.
It's a good idea in theory. But somehow, it doesn't quite work.
And just like that, I realised Big and I weren't "us" any more.
We had become something else. What it was, I had no idea.
You have one new message.
It's me. I'm just wondering how it went. Call me when you get home.
I had no idea where the chickens had gone, but I hoped it wasn't the Bronx.
And I hoped they were happy.
Who wants a wiener?
Girl, I'm trying to get rid of one.
The next Saturday, Samantha decided to throw a kiss and make up party
for the "Up-my-ass Players".
Trey called me three times last week. He's dying to get back together.
But I don't know. Is that wise?
- I'm obsessing again, aren't I? - A bit.
So, what are we all drinking?
"Flirtinis." Vodka, pineapple and champagne.
Flirtinis.
- Destiny made them. - I'm way past a Flirtini. I need a "Fucktini".
Watch your language. There are ladies present.
Where?
- You with the flower. - Are you talking to me?
It's you, girl. Come on.
- What do you want? - I want you to give me a swirl.
I need to see you spin first, sister.
- Is that good enough? - Give me the shake.
Don't mind the weight. Eat something.
Don't worry, they have a very lovely life.
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