Sex and the City (1998–2004): Season 1, Episode 11 - The Drought - full transcript

New York City is all about sex.

People getting it.
People trying to get it.

And people who can't get it.

No wonder the city never sleeps.
It's too busy trying to get laid.

But if you ever actually do manage
to get someone in bed...

the real fun begins.

That's the kind with nuts in it.

We love our nuts.

After sleeping together
for many weeks...

Mr. Big and I had gotten comfortable
enough to really sleep together.

It was nice.
It was the way...



I'd always dreamed it could be.

- Good morning.
- Morning.

Was that you?

Oh, my God.

I think it might be worse
under there.

Shut up!

I hadn't dressed so quickly
since the time...

I was caught in the boy's dorm
sophomore year.

- Wait. Don't you want some coffee?
- Oh, gosh.

I'm late for a thing.

Oh, my God. I was mortified.

I didn't call him
the rest of the day.

I tried to lose myself in work,
but every time I stopped to think...

- Oh, God.
- I'd relive my hell all over again.



The next day, I realized
how childish I was behaving.

I decided to stop avoiding the situation
and take the grown-up approach--

complete and utter denial.

I saw the Met is opening
a new Goya exhibit.

Do you want to go this Saturday?

Sure.

Could you get me
some more duck sauce, please?

I most certainly can.

Oh, and we have to stop and see
the Renoirs. I love the Renoirs.

There's a moment in every relationship
where romance gives way to reality.

You know-- You know what?

I'm exhausted.

You mind if we just
call it a night? Okay?

Sure.

Good night.

'Night.

That was the first night
we slept together and didn't make love.

By the middle of the next week,
it was three times in a row...

and I was beginning to worry.

Three times? Try three months.

- No.
- Yes.

Now would be a good time to wipe
that horrified look off your face.

I'm sorry, sweetie.

I just-- I didn't know.
Where have I been?

You've been having sex.

I've been at Blockbuster
renting videos. It's tragic.

I'm like two rentals away
from a free pound a Gummy Bears.

Relax.
You're just in a dry spell.

I can't believe you said that.

You're all freaked out about three
times. I'm talking three months.

That's different. Not doing it when
you're with someone means much more...

than not doing it
when you're not with someone.

What are you worried about?

I thought you said everything felt
really comfortable and great.

- Maybe too comfortable.
- What do you mean?

I farted.

I farted in front of my boyfriend.

- And?
- And we're no longer having sex.

And he thinks of me
as one of the boys.

And I'm gonna have to move
to another city...

where the shame of this
won't follow me.

You farted. You're human.

I don't want him to know that.

I mean, he's this perfect guy.

He walks around his perfect apartment
with is perfect suit.

He's perfect, perfect, perfect,
and I'm the girl who farts.

- No wonder we're not having sex.
- You're insane!

It's been three times.
It's perfectly normal.

Says who? I mean...

say it's not the--

then what else is going on?

Is it normal to be
in the same bed and not do it?

I guess it depends
on what's normal for you.

Oh, God. I hate that.

Who am I to know what's normal?

I haven't dated in a hundred years.
I haven't a clue.

Well, three months
is not normal for me.

One month was interesting.
Two months was numbing.

Three months, I am going
out of my mind.

There are 1.3 million
single men in New York...

1.8 million single women.

And of these
more than 3 million people...

about 12 think
they're having enough sex.

How often is normal?

I have to masturbate three times
a day just to make it through.

Some people take coffee breaks,
I take jerk-off breaks.

They say the average 33-year-old woman
has sex 3.5 times a week.

I'd like to know
who that woman is.

My wife and I haven't has sex
since the baby was born.

The baby's applying to Yale
next fall.

Once-- One time a day...

but two time on very special day.

Normal is the halfway point between
what you want and what you can get.

Even in the plow position,
I could count on Samantha...

for amazing sexual clarity.

Very good. Let's move on
to downward facing dog.

With him, I could do it
every hour on the hour.

Do you think it means something
if Big and I are sleeping together...

but we're not sleeping together?

- The truth?
- When have I ever wanted that?

Okay, tell me.

I think there's trouble.
I mean...

sex is a barometer for what's
going on in the relationship.

I wasn't going to tell you this,
but...

I farted.

- Then move your mat away.
- Not now. I did it in front of Big.

- Huge mistake.
- You think?

It wasn't a choice.
I'm human. It happened.

No, honey, you're a woman, and men
don't like women to be human.

We aren't supposed to fart, douche...

use tampons or have hair
in places we shouldn't.

I mean, hell, a guy once broke up
with me because I missed a bikini wax.

I knew it.

This is a watershed relationship moment
I'm never gonna be able to erase.

Sure you will.

Just go over there and fuck his brains
out and he'll forget all about it.

Men aren't that complicated.
They're kind of like plants.

- Concentrate. Quiet your insides.
- Now he tells me.

Roll over on your backs.
Take goddess pose.

Let your breathing work with you.

In...

and out.

In.

Out.

Would you like to go
for a coffee sometime?

Forty-five minutes and
three animal positions later...

Samantha and Siddhartha were sipping
green tea...

at a nearby health food restaurant.

Tofu or not tofu.

I always feel so amazing after yoga.

My body feels so open, so alive...

so ready for anything.

Yes?

I'm celibate.

I practice "parmacharia,"
Tantric celibacy.

I gave up sex three years ago.

My God. Why?

Or more importantly, why?
Didn't you like it?

Oh, I loved it.
I'd have sex mooring, noon and night.

Sometimes three women a day,
and I was always ready for more.

- Now you're just being cruel.
- No.

It was all ego.

And where I am now
is so much better than sex.

Oh, come on, honey.
Nothing's better than sex.

Think about really good f oreplay.

Your sexual energy's
just starting to awaken.

Now imagine a three-year foreplay...

where all that sexual energy
is coursing through your body...

but it never gets released.

It just recycles.

Builds. Rises.

Until your entire being is humming
with that electric sexual energy.

My apartment's
just around the corner.

The only thing hotter than sex
is not having sex.

Amazingly, talking dirty
about not having sex...

was the most sexually deviant act...

Samantha had
participated in for months.

The next night when
I met Charlotte for dinner...

I had reached my own
transcendental state.

Pure Mr. Big obsession.

The first time he was tired.

The next two times, l--

I don't know. I don't know.
It's bad, isn't it?

Relax. There's nothing wrong
with your relationship.

- That's not all. I--
- What?

I couldn't bring myself
to tell her.

I was afraid she'd go
spontaneously deaf.

I'm sorry.
What were you saying?

People put too much emphasis
on the importance of sex.

It's not the most important thing
in a relationship.

- Right.
- Take Kevin and l, for example.

We've been going out for weeks,
and we still haven't done it.

I mean, we touch and cuddle...

but he's sweet,
and he respects my boundaries.

I like it. It makes it special.
Oh, there he is.

Meeting a friend's new boyfriend
for the first time is always tense.

What if you don't like him?
What if he doesn't like you?

Kevin, this is my good friend Carrie.

What if you've
already slept with him?

- You two know each other.
- Well, kind of.

We used to go out.

Well, kind of used to go out.

You two used to go out?
That's so funny.

- Isn't that funny?
- That's my office.

I gotta take this.
I'[Il be right back.

Okay, when?

- Three years ago?
- Three years. I can live with that.

Serious?

- No.
- Good. Why'd you break up?

We were in different places
and l--

We don't have time for diplomacy.
Just tell me.

He's a sex maniac.

When Charlotte discovered that Kevin
had tucked his libido away...

for her comfort level, she was
even more moved by his restraint.

I want you to know how much
I appreciate your patience.

You've been so patient with me.

Shows how much you really care.

And all that waiting...

is gonna make it
all the more special for us now.

There's only gonna be one stop.
Thanks.

I don't think this is gonna work.

- Why? ls it me?
- No, you're great.

I'm just not that sexual a guy.

It's me. I know it's me.

Look, Carrie told me
that you were quite sexual.

In fact, I believe
she used the word "maniac."

That was before.

- Before what?
- Prozac.

- Prozac.
- Yeah. I used to be such a mess.

Mr. Mood Swing.
It's a total lifesaver.

The only downside is
it takes the air out of my tires.

After a while, it's
kind of like a taffy pull.

It's okay.
Don't worry about it.

I don't.
I wish I could say I felt worse...

but to tell you the truth,
these days, nothing gets me down.

You want to watch a movie?

Terrified of going to Mr. Big's...

for what could become
another platonic sleepover...

I paced my apartment and tried not
to think about our lack of sex when--

There they were, my new neighbors--

Mr. and Mrs. Get-it-on.

A couple so obviously into each other
there was only one thing to do--

watch.

Then something wonderful happened.

My desire overcame my fear.

Hi, it's me.

Is it okay if I come over?

Meanwhile, across town at the corner
of Nirvana and West Third...

Siddhartha was helping Samantha
along her newfound path.

"Blocks are connection
to our inner life...

and true identities."

- You're hard.
- I know.

"Our addictions and attachments...

are a way to block
our spiritual hunger...

through unhealthy
and dependent ways."

- You're still hard.
- It'll go down.

So can l.

I showed up at his apartment
feeling sexy and confident.

Wearing my secret-weapon skirt
that really hugged my hips...

I was ready to go.

He didn't have a prayer.

Very nice. Come on in.
I'm watching the fight.

Baby.

Come on. Let me watch this.

Oh, man!

Jesus, Carrie! Come on!

Would you knock it the fuck off?
I'm trying to watch this fight.

Fine. I'll leave.

What is wrong with you?
Why are you acting so nuts?

Maybe I'm not perfect. Maybe
I don't fit into your perfect life...

with your perfect apartment
and your perfect pay-per-view fight.

Maybe I should leave.

I stood there and waited
for the obligatory...

he's-coming-to-stop-me
ten seconds.

He didn't.

By the time I got home, I was sure he'd
left an apology on my voice mail.

You have no new messages
in your mailbox.

I didn't sleep very well that night...

but I wasn't the only one.

After a night of spiritual reading
with her hunky guru...

Samantha began to feel things
she hadn't felt in a very long time--

frustrated and horny.

She decided it was time
to put an end to her suffering.

But just as she reached the place
Krishna called the gateway to life...

she turned back
and decided not to enter.

After all, she'd come this far.

She could continue
not to come at all.

In an effort
to get her mind off sex...

Miranda had rented
a five-hour Danish documentary...

on the Nuremberg trial.

- It actually worked until--
- Hey, gorgeous!

Why don't you quick drop this?

Hey, she's thinkin' about it.

Where you goin' so fast?
I got what you want, what you need.

Like every woman consumed
with a relationship problem...

I needed a project
to keep my mind from obsessing...

and my hands from dialing his number.

Three months and one week.

Miranda needed to keep
her hands busy as well.

- Did he call?
- Nope.

And it's been two days.

Nice color. Ecru?

Egg shell.

Well, I think it's over.

I should never have farted.

Jesus, Carrie! That's it.
I've heard enough about the fart.

- It's not the fucking fart.
- I know it's not the fucking fart.

I think I'm in love with him...

and I'm terrified that's he's gonna
leave me because I'm not perfect.

All right.

Let's just put the roller down
and go in the other room and talk.

Sex has stopped.
He hasn't called.

What if he never calls
and three weeks from now...

I pick up The New York Times
and I read that he's married...

some perfect little woman who never
passes gas under his $500 sheets.

When did you get so obsessed
with being perfect?

I don't know. It's something about him.
You should see me around him.

I'm not like me.
I'm like "together Carrie."

I wear little outfits-- "sexy Carrie,"
and "casual Carrie."

Sometimes I catch myself
actually posing. It's exhausting.

Then stop.

Why don't you show him
more of this Carrie? She's great.

What if he doesn't like her?

Oh, my God!

Look at them.

I had no idea
they did an afternoon show.

When a show is good,
word gets around.

There we were, the '90s version
of matinee ladies.

Who said the theater was dead.

Samantha, I cannot believe
that you would give this up on purpose.

- Actually, I hardly miss it.
- How long has it been?

- A hundred years.
- It never goes down, does it?

- Look, it's still--
- Hard.

- Yeah.
- Gummy Bear, please.

- Give me the fucking candy.
- Hey, snapping over Gummy Bears...

might be a sign
that celibacy's not for you.

All I can say is that my big payoff
better be worth it.

Samantha, I don't understand you.

There are people starving out there
and you're fasting.

Stop complaining. At least
you can take care of yourself.

I'm way beyond that point.

Beside, I think I've given myself
carpal tunnel.

Sure, it's all fun until you
get to know each other.

That move is what there famous for.

It's been an hour.
How can that guy still be--

Hard.

I have got to try this again
with Kevin.

We really like each other. That's
got to be stronger than a drug, right?

I'm warning you.

If I make it to four months,
I'm humping one of you.

Oh, my God.

I hate them.

After the second show, each of us
went on with our Saturdays.

Miranda went to get a movie
and another pound of Gummy Bears.

Hey, it's my sweetheart!

You're looking good, baby.
Good enough to eat.

Where are you goin', doll?
I got what you want.

- I got what you need.
- You talking to me?

We got a live one, boys.

You got what I want?
You got what I need?

Well, what I want is to get laid.
What I need is to get laid.

- I need is to get laid.
- Take it easy, lady. I'm married.

All talk and no action, huh?
What a cafone!

Yeah, she's something else.

Samantha decided to channel
her frustration at yoga.

Good.

Now release and breathe.

Unless you're planning to move
those hands down, get them off me.

Exhale and turn around
into asana.

She had reached the end
of her path and her patience.

Wanna fuck?

Wanna fuck?

Yeah.

Samantha spent the afternoon
having multiple yo-gasms.

Later that night, Charlotte was
determined to prove she was stronger...

than selective serotonin
re-uptake inhibitors.

Isn't your arm getting tired?

No, I think it's starting to work.

It's not,
and I'm beginning to chafe.

- You okay?
- Yeah.

I've just never been
in this situation before.

Do you think you'll ever--

- Never mind.
- What, think I'll ever go off it?

- Yeah.
- Nope.

Not even for me?

Nope.

Come on. Wouldn't you rather be
with a guy who'd kind and giving...

and not that interested in sex...

than an unstable, oversexed prick
who only wants to get laid?

Nope.

Once Charlotte realized she couldn't
get what she thought she didn't want...

she couldn't imagine
going on without it.

Saturday night's dinner came and went
with no call from Big.

My life was suddenly shit...

but my cabinets
were looking fabulous.

- Who is it?
- Me.

- Surprise.
- Yeah.

- What's all this?
- I'm painting.

I can see that.

Why didn't you call?

Why didn't you call?

So this is where you live.

About time you invited me up.

I didn't invite you.

I know.

It's nice. Very nice.

No, it's not. It's a mess.

The floors need to be stripped
and the curtains are--

I want to change a lot of it.

I don't know.

I like it.

I like it the way it is.

What was that all about
the other night?

That was me...

having a meltdown.

Nice paint.

- Egg shell?
- Yes.

Did you know there's a couple
humping outside of your window?

Really? Oh, I never noticed.

All I could think was
why aren't we having sex?

Is this normal? What's wrong?

- Where are we going?
- Oh, hell.

We can do better than that.

And then he kissed me.

Odd how normal can sometimes
feel so uncomfortable.