Sex and the City (1998–2004): Season 1, Episode 3 - Bay of Married Pigs - full transcript

Carrie is invited to stay with a married friend and her husband, Peter, at their beach house. Her trip is unexpectedly cut short when she walks in on Peter who is naked in the kitchen. Back in Manhattan, she contemplates whether there is a secret war going on between the singles and the married. Later on, she is introduced to a guy who's desperately trying to start a family. It seems that dating the marrying-type guy has suddenly made her a member of a club for married couples.

One of the best things
about living in a city like New York

is leaving it.

My friend, Patience and her husband

invited me to the
Hamptons for the weekend.

Patience and Peter
were the perfect married couple.

They were fun, smart, and looked
like they fell out of a J. Crew catalogue.

If their house wasn't right on the beach,
I would've hated them.

So, he gets in the cab
and he slides up next to me.

- Yes?
- And it is hot.

It is hot all the way from Houston and
West Broadway to 72nd and Madison.

Hampton house guests are always
required to sing for their supper.

Brokers give investment advice,
architects, design advice,

single people give married friends
titbits from their sexual escapades.

The next morning I woke up
feeling rested and fabulous.

I couldn't wait to go out
and take in the spectacular view.


Patience went out to get
juice and muffins.

She'll be right back.

There he was, full frontal...



He just stood there, casual,
happy, hanging out.

I didn't know what to say.

I only knew one thing,
that's way too much Peter before coffee.

- Good morning.
- Hey.

I've got some fresh juice
and the good muffins.

So, what's happening?

Well I ran into Peter in the hallway,
without his underwear on.

PS Congratulations.

Sunny day.

Honey, did Carrie see
your dick in the hall?

Yeah, she caught me
on the way to the bathroom.

- On the way to the bathroom.
- Yeah! The good muffins.

So what are we doing today?

I barely had time for a muffin
before returning to New York.

I'm confused, why would he do that?
Did he want to have sex with you?

I don't know, it didn't feel sexual.

Maybe he just wanted
to show it off, like a monkey.

- So, how big was it?
- Fresh pepper?

Yes, please.

That'll do.

- Would you like some fresh pepper?
- Honey, I'd love some fresh pepper.

In fact, I think everyone at this table
could use a lot of fresh pepper.


So she said I couldn't understand
why she was so upset because I'm single.

And what?

Single women prowl beach houses hoping
to glimpse their friends' husbands' dicks?

- How good of a friend was she?
- What's the difference?

When someone marries, all bets are off.
They're married and we're the enemy.

As the only single lawyer
working at her law firm,

Miranda had
given this topic some thought.

Married women are threatened because
we can have sex any time, with anyone.

We can?

And they're afraid we're gonna have it
with their husbands.

- I'd never sleep with a married man.
- Are you sure you haven't?

Wedding rings come off, you know.
If you're still single, you're not to be trusted.

Come on, not all married
women feel that way.

Charlotte treated marriage like a sorority
she was desperately hoping to pledge.

You're right, not all.
The ones who don't fear you, pity you.

That's not true.

Are you telling me you haven't gotten
those 'poor single you' looks?

- I hate those.
- OK, yes, I have.

I hate being the only
single person at a party

- and they all look at you like you're a...
- Loser?

- Leper.
- Whore.

Exactly. I'm telling
you, married people are the enemy!

Was Miranda right? Were we enemies?

Is there a secret cold war
between marrieds and singles?

I love my single friends,

but now that I'm married,
I don't see them as much as I used to.

It's too painful. They remind me
of how desperate I used to be.

When women get married, they forget
who they are. "l" becomes "we".

"We loved the movie."
"We hate that restaurant."

We, we, we, we, we.

My best buddy and I
did everything together.

Then he married this girl
who doesn't like me.

Now I only see him
on Super Bowl Sunday.

It's about what you want out of life.
Some people, like me, choose to grow up,

face reality and get married,

and others choose to, what?

Live an empty, haunted life
of stunted adolescence.

No, it's not a cold war.
It's an out and out battle.

And it isn't just straight people.

Every gay guy I know
is running off to Hawaii,

putting on a kaftan,
reciting vows, and feeling superior to me.

- Kaftans?
- Oh yes, with orchid leis.


I miss the old times
when everyone was alone.

Now I'm just starting to feel like
I'm an outcast in the outcasts.


Oh, my God!
Joe! Hi! Wow!

Jeez, it's been years.
I haven't seen you since you were...


- I was gonna say in Miss Saigon.
- Still am.

I love Miss Saigon.

This is my friend, Stanford.

- And this is my life partner, Lou.
- Look at that. Congratulations.

- Where are you registered?
- Barney's.

I was kidding.

So, Carrie, how about you?
Are you married?

Not really, I mean, no!

- Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
- Perfect!

- What?
- Lou and I are interested in having a child.

We already have a surrogate,
but we need a top-notch egg.

What are your feelings about donating one?

Listen, here's our card.
You think about it and give us a call.

- We'll pay.
- Great seeing you.

I had just experienced single bashing
for the new millennium.

I was no longer even considered a person.
I was now an egg farm.

Meanwhile, downtown, another
single woman was about to be humiliated.

Miranda had to attend
her firm's annual softball game.

A law firm softball game is like any other,

except when a lawyer
steals a base, he gets promoted.

- Miranda. I was afraid you wouldn't come.
- All right, let's get it over with.

Panicked at the idea of spending
another firm function labelled as a leper,

Miranda had agreed
to be fixed up on a blind date.

Miranda, this is Syd.
Syd, Miranda.

Look at you two, perfect match.

Well, I'm gonna excuse myself.

- Nice to meet you.
- You, too.

I'm gonna get a soda. You want a soda?

I'm gonna get us a soda.


Pretty great, huh?
Can I pick 'em or what?

- Yeah, I'm not gay.
- Seriously?

I've been with the firm eight months,
I haven't once seen you with a guy.

Circumstantial, Jeff, I'm single.

Christ, when did being single
translate into being gay?

Shit. Do you want me
to go over there and...

No, I'll do it.

Brave Miranda marched right over
and told Syd she wasn't.

They had a good laugh
and decided to stay and play ball.

Miranda and Syd's last inning double play
got the attention of everyone,

- even the firm's senior partner.
- That was quite a play, ladies.

- It's all about teamwork, Charles.
- Chip.


My wife and I are having
a little dinner party on the 12th,

just some couples, nothing fancy.

- We'd love it if you both could make it.
- We'd love to.

Later that night, Miranda gave me
the low-down on her day.

So you think it's just because
they think that you're in a couple?

I know it! In two years he's barely spoken
to me, all of a sudden, it's "Chip".

A lawyer named Chip, gotta love that.

They seemed so relieved
to have finally figured me out.

- You're actually going to dinner?
- Yup.

I'm determined to make partner in this firm,
even if I have to be a lesbian.

After Miranda left, I had a thought.

Maybe the cold war isn't about hate,
maybe it's about fear,

fear of the unknown.

Married people don't hate singles,
they just want us "figured out".

I felt it was time to stop all this
speculation and infiltrate the enemy camp.

Lunch with my favourite couple,
David and Lisa.

I don't think of us as married
so much as together.

Are we married?

Yeah. Remember when you wore
the white dress and we got the flatware?

Yeah. I guess
I should stop seeing other men.

- What about you? You like being single?
- Most of the time, yeah.

Then there are the other times,

like family functions
when they sit you at the kid's table.

Or when you two
eat off the same fork, I just...

- Man, that's so sweet.
- Don't start crying.

He's such a pussy.

But you do want
to get married, right?

I don't know. I'm beginning to think
I may not be the marrying kind.

- Really?
- As soon as the words came out

I wondered if they were true.

- Hey!
- Hey, Sean!

- What a surprise. This is Carrie.
- Hi.

We're about to have dessert,
want to join us?

Sure. This is such a surprise.

Another time I hate being single

is when married friends
"surprise" fix you up.

Two espressos and a tiramisu later,

I had learned that Sean
was the youngest of three brothers,

had his own investment firm

and was about to move into
an apartment he had just purchased.

-You know this was a fix-up, right?
- Please,

I could smell it
before you walked in the door.

My parents met on a fix-up,
and they'll be married 41 years next month.

That's great.

It was then I realised,
I was having coffee with the marrying guy.

That illusive and rare Manhattan man
whose sights were set on marriage.

- Can I see you again?
- Sure.

Over the next week and a half,
I met Sean for a movie...

I met him for another movie.

And I helped him pick out a top of the line
cheese grater at Williams-Sonoma.

My house-warming is on the 12th,
you should come, and bring your friends.

Sounds like fun.

Thanks for a great day.

He was like the flesh and blood equivalent
of a DKNY dress.

You know it's not you're style,
but it's there, so you try it on anyway.

It was the night of the 12th.

On the East Side, a pseudo lesbian couple
attended a Republican dinner party.


On the West Side, a trio of single gals
went to a single guy's house-warming.

- So, are his friends cute?
- I don't know, I haven't met them.

How did you manage
to get a new boyfriend in a week?

He's not my boyfriend.
He's just somebody I'm trying on.

All right, ready?

Everywhere I looked
people were standing in two's.

It was like Noah's
Upper West Side rent controlled ark.

It's all married couples.

Samantha gave me a look
like I had sold her to the enemy

for chocolate bars and nylons.

This is for you. Hi.

- You must be Charlotte.
- Hi.

- You have to be Samantha.
- Yeah, where's the bar?

Kitchen, you can't miss it,
room with the stove.

- This apartment is amazing.
- Thanks, I've been planning it for years.

I'll give you guys the grand tour.

As I moved through the married couples,
I noticed something was different...

No fear, no pity, no pointing.

Were Sean's friends
cold war conscientious objectors?

Or was it just that I was "figured out"?

My accountant says
it's best to go with low risk stocks.

Well, that depends.
What are your exceptions?

Well, I'm not sure.

- Honey, I need you to meet someone.
- Sure.

- This is Samantha, Samantha, Elaine.
- His wife.

- Honey, I need you in the other room.
- Sure. Nice talking to you Samantha.

- This is the den.
-You have a leather club chair! I love them.

Thanks. I'm using this room
as an office now, but someday...

this is gonna be the kid's room. Look.

I got this three years ago in Aspen.
What do you think?

OK, I owe you. I didn't know
all his buddies were married.

My God, you're doing tequila shots?

See, that buddy over there?

I fucked him.

See that buddy over there?

I fucked him too.

I never thought I'd see them again.

We should tag your married men
so you can keep track of them.

- He's gonna ask you to marry him.
- He's not. We've been dating a week.

No guy buys
a classic six on the Upper West Side

unless they're seriously
thinking about marriage.

Some people read palms,
Charlotte read real estate.

If you turn into
one of those married assholes,

I'll kill you.

Sean is the greatest guy, and he loves kids.

Plus, he owns his own business,
and he's got 300,000 in the bank.

We both slept with him
and he is great in bed.

An hour and a half
into this house-warming,

I had gone
from party guest to prisoner of war.

Samantha is totally drunk.
I've got to get her out of here.

You're not going without me.

- Carrie!
- Oh God, more friends.

- Surprise!
- It certainly was.

Last time I saw Patience
she was shoving me on a bus.

When Sean told us you and he were dating,
we were so thrilled.

Listen, about what happened
at your beach house the other day...

- Don't mention it.
- I'm not even sure...

I said don't mention it.

This party is terrible.
Who are you?

This is my friend Patience
and this is her husband Peter.

I heard about you.

- Big pepper mill dick!
- OK, we gotta go!

And just as suddenly,
our little cease-fire was over.

Meanwhile, across town,
things were winding down.

Thank you so much,
we really had a great time.

As did we all.

She is a real find. We'll do it again soon.

I'll meet you at the elevator, OK?

We can't do it again soon.
Syd and I aren't really a couple.

We're not even really lesbians.
Well, Syd is, I'm not.

I just took advantage of the situation
to bend your ear about my work at the firm.

Shrewd move, counsellor. No harm done.

- Thank you, sir.
- My wife will be disappointed.

She was looking to add
a lesbian couple to our circle.

As they left, Miranda considered how much
easier life would be if she were in a couple,

any couple.

Yup, definitely straight.

Yeah, you are.


While Miranda cursed her heterosexuality

and wondered how much longer
she could fight the war,

Charlotte cursed tequila
and forced Samantha into a cab.

Samantha was too drunk to get home alone
and slept on Charlotte's couch.

- We're home.
- We're home. Oh, boy.

Let me get that door for you.

- Hi.
- All right, all right.

- I like him!
- Bye.

She got Samantha upstairs
and safely to bed, or so she thought.

A couple of hours later, Samantha woke up
still drunk and still single.

And single to Samantha meant one thing.

- Can I have a cigarette?
- Sure.

Can I have a kiss?


I really shouldn't, somebody might see.

Why don't you come upstairs,
just for a minute?


Don't be scared, miss.
It's me, Tommy, I'm just leaving.

Your friend invited me up.
I know it was wrong,

but I've just been so lonely
since I left home.

I wanted the feel
of a woman's touch on me.

I'm going into the bathroom now
and when I come out you won't be here.

I never want this mentioned again.

Let me get the door for you, miss.

I was kind of hoping you'd stay over.

Look, Sean,
I don't think this is gonna work.

We want different things.
You obviously want to get married and...

I don't know what I want.

- You could smell my desperation, right?
- No, it's just...

I was trying you on, you know?
To see if it fits.

It doesn't.

I'm sorry.

I don't understand you women.

All I hear is, "I want to get married,
I want to get married,"

and none of you says yes. What the fuck?

I'm so tired of going through women.

I just want to get married.

I may know someone who's perfect for you.


They started out casual,
a brunch here, a concert there.

But pretty soon they were visiting china.

I always wanted
this pattern for formal dining.

Are you serious?

Charlotte broke it off then and there.
It would never work.

He was American classic,
she was French country.

Your friend never
called like she promised. Why?

I don't know.

As I sifted through the rubble
of my marriage skirmish, I had a thought.

Maybe the fight between marrieds and
singles is like the war in Northern Ireland.

We're all basically the same, but
somehow we wound up on different sides.

Sure, it'd be great to have
that one special person to walk home with,

but sometimes there's nothing better

than meeting your single girlfriends
for a night at the movies.