Sex and the City (1998–2004): Season 1, Episode 5 - The Power of Female Sex - full transcript

While shoe-shopping, Carrie meets Amalita and her new rich boyfriend. Amalita's life is full of vacations, holidays, and shopping with very rich men. Over dinner, she introduces a young, handsome architect to Carrie. Her evening ends at his luxurious hotel. Waking up, she finds that the man has left her a considerable sum. Appalled, she calls up her friends and they discuss the power of sex. Meanwhile, Charlotte is asked to model for an artist who is doing a series of paintings of vagina.

The most powerful woman
in New York is not Tina Brown,

or Diane Sawyer or even Rosie O'Donnell.

It's the hostess at Balzac, which had
become the only restaurant that mattered.

We were there to celebrate the moment.

This is humiliating.
We've been waiting for 45 minutes.

- I think I'm gonna faint.
- Doesn't she know who we are?

Who are we?

I own my own PR firm,
you write a newspaper column.

This should not be happening.

I'm going back up there.

Hello, excuse me. Hello!
We've been waiting 45 minutes.

Look, I'm not sure you understand,
but I'm kind of somebody,

and she's definitely kind of somebody,

- and we really need to eat now.
- I'm sorry.

Excuse me.

- Give me a 20.
- You must be joking.

Do you think I should make it a 50?

If I had $50 on me,
do you think I'd give it to her?

She can't do this to us. We're leaving.

Let me tell you something,
I was that woman ten years ago.

But I wielded my power
in a benevolent manner.

Can we please talk
about this over lunch somewhere else?

Somewhere like New Jersey,
where we might actually get seated?

Do you realise if she were a man,

not only would we be eating right now,
but they'd be sending over free drinks.

Listen, I know a great
Thai place around the corner

where the owner's son always
sends over a complimentary mee krob.

How sad. Do you think we can get it to go?

A short time later,
Samantha headed back to her office,

while I decided to investigate
this theory I had about shopping

as a way to unleash
the creative subconscious.

All right, I'm gonna take them.

I was already
planning on returning them when...


They told me to do that,
and now they want to talk to you.

- Scusa. That won't be necessary.
- God! I don't believe it!

- When did you get to town?
- Just yesterday.

- Darling, you look fantastic!
- I can't let you do this.

Of course you can,
and you can pay me back never.

Besides, it's on Carlo.

- When did you two...?
- About two months.

His family own
this gigantic ranch in Argentina.

Very, very wealthy.
He has a tiny little penis,

but he knows exactly how to use it.
Wave, darling, wave.

It's very nice of you,
but I can't accept these.

Of course you can!

When have I ever given you
a birthday or Christmas present?

You're like a sister to me,
yet I never see you.

Truth was, we'd only met a few times.

Most people would classify Amalita
as Euro-trash, I thought she was fun.

Call me. I'm staying at
The Four Seasons with Carlo.

Don't you live in the city?
I'm a citizen of the world.

A citizen of the world, darling.
Now take the shoes, we'll talk soon.

- I can't do this.
- Of course you can!

Go, go, amore.

I couldn't understand
a word she was saying,

but I had in my possession

all the Italian I'd ever need to know.

Dolce, Dolce, Dolce.

While at home, all the English
I seemed to encounter was bills, bills, bills.

I envied Amalita.

Her life was a blur of rich men,
designer clothes and glamorous resorts.

She didn't actually work for a living,
yet possessed a dazzling sexual power

that she exploited to her full advantage,

which presented a certain conundrum.

Where's the line between
professional girlfriend

and just plain professional?

Women have the right to use every
means at their disposal to achieve power.

- Short of sleeping their way to the top.
- Not if that's what it takes to compete.

- But that's exploitation!
- Of men, which is perfectly legal.

Saturday night, in an effort to save money,
and maybe even pick up a few extra bucks,

- I invited the girls over for poker.
- I'll buy two.

I'm in for three.

So you advocate a double standard.

Women can use their sexuality
to get ahead whenever possible,

but men should not
be allowed to take advantage of it?

No, I'm just saying that men and women
are equal opportunity exploiters.

What if you sense that someone
is giving you a professional advantage

- because they find you charming?
- Charming?

This I got to hear.

A few days ago, Neville Morgan,
the notoriously reclusive painter,

paid a visit to the gallery.

Neville was making
his yearly pilgrimage to Manhattan

to check out what was
new and hot on the art scene.

And he found it...


It was only a matter of moments
before he invited her to his farm upstate

to view his latest work.

So, if I could get him
to show at the gallery,

it would be an incredible coup,
but what if he wants me to...

- You know
- Hold his brush?

If he so much as suggests
what she's suggesting,

you give me a call and
we'll sue the hell out of him.

That's the only proper way
to trade sex for power.

I can't believe what I'm hearing.
You're like the Harvard Law Lorena Bobbit.

It's Skipper, I told him I was here
and he insisted on picking me up.

But he's not supposed
to be here 'til 11.

- He's like a sweet little seal pup.
- That you sometimes want to club.

- You're an hour early.
- I can wait in the hall.

- Skipper, come in.
- It's all right. I'm leaving anyway.

You guys have cleaned me out.
Goodnight, ladies.

Charlotte, keep me posted.

A couple of hours later, I was
looking forward to an early night, when...

- Hello?
- Carrie, you bitch, what are you doing?

Actually, I'm getting ready to go to sleep.

Why don't you come and join us?
We're at Balzac,

and there is someone here
I'm dying for you to meet.

I'd love to, but I'm really trying to cut back.
You know, pinch a few pennies.

You are crazy, you know that?

Why don't you just come down here
and be your fabulous self?

The truth was,
I could barely afford that either.

I rationalised that my new shoes shouldn't
be punished because I can't budget.

- Hi.
- Sorry, you're not on the list.

I don't need a list.
My friends are already in.

Darling, what took you so long?

You won't believe what Carlo bought
me this afternoon at Van Cleef and Arpel.

- That's gorgeous.
- $12,000.

Listen, I want you to come and meet
the world's most fabulous man!

- Sounds like a trendy sideshow act.
- You're crazy!

I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Carlo,
and his friend Gilles.

Nice to meet you.

Gilles is an architect from Paris.

- How long are you here?
- Just a couple of days on business.

I've told Gilles all about you.

I told him you're the most beautiful,
talented, fascinating woman in New York.

And single. How is this possible?

I get it. You're an architect and a comedian.

- I don't understand.
- Nothing. I'm just being un peu stupide.

You? Never.

I suddenly recalled my terrible weakness
for gorgeous French architects.

Can I get anyone something else?

- Would you like another bottle of wine?
- Wonderful.

And what will the rest of you be having?

During the next couple of hours,
I put my journalistic skills to good use.

I discovered that Gilles
was recently divorced with a daughter,

who lived with her mother in Paris.

He was passing through
New York on his way to Brazil

to supervise construction of a new hotel.

I think you're too beautiful to be a writer.

I think you're too charming
to be an architect.

I think you should give up your life here
and move with me to Paris immediately.

I thought you were spending
the next six months in Brazil?

- You can join me there first.
- Don't tempt me.

I'm so broke, I might
take you up on that just to save in rent.

- Writing does not pay well?
- No, it does it's just...

I have this little
substance abuse problem.

Expensive footwear.

I see.

I'm only here for the weekend,
but I'd love to see you tomorrow,

maybe you could show me the town.

- You've never been to New York?
- About 12 times.

But I've never seen it
with someone like you.

You really have that certain
je ne sais quoi, don't you?


And so do you.


- I'll see you tomorrow.
- Goodnight.


Sure, I saw some red flags -

divorced, French,
and almost uncomfortably handsome.

But I felt like I was floating on air.

The next morning,
I was brought back down to earth

as I confronted that eternal puzzle -

a closet full of clothes, nothing to wear.

Just a minute!

- Who is it?
- It's Skipper.


- I'm sorry, I should go.
- No Skipper, come on in.

What is it?

It's Miranda, she's got me totally whacked.
It's like I'm obsessed.

And I know that I shouldn't be,
because I sense it's totally turning her off.

But I can't control it, I can't.

It's like she's got this power over me
and I'm helpless.

Keep going, I have to get dressed, all right?

Is it possible to be addicted to a person?

The sex is so awesome,
that it's like all I can think about.

I've never considered myself...

You know, a horn-dog before, I'm worried
I might be starting to scare her off.

Well, is that what she said?

We just have sex in the afternoon.
She never lets me spend the night.

Well, I have an idea.

Why don't the two of you just spend
a night together and not have sex?

That would be hard. Really hard.

I think it's important that you try.

I don't even shower afterwards.
I like to spend the whole day

smelling like Miranda.

I began to fear that Miranda's sexuality
was overpowering poor Skipper.

Later, I spent the most
incredibly romantic afternoon with Gilles.

I felt like I had landed
in a Claude Lelouch film -

a man and a slightly neurotic woman.

Wait, wait. I kind of have this rule.

I don't sleep with men
I've only known a day.

I see.

I gave in. After all,
it was already tomorrow in Paris.

You look so beautiful when you sleep.
I didn't want to disturb you.

- Are you leaving so early?
- I've got a plane.

- I'll get up.
- No, no. Stay in bed.

Order room service. Enjoy yourself.

- I can just get dressed.
- Relax...

- I'll call you.
- OK.

Bon voyage !

As he walked away, it dawned on me

that he didn't have my phone number,
and I didn't have his phone number.

But he had left me a note...

With a thousand dollars in cash!

'"Thanks for the beautiful day.'"
Must've been a helluva beautiful day!

Well, it was.

We had such a fantastic connection,
then he leaves me money.

I don't understand.
What about me screams whore?

- Besides the $1,000 on the end table?
- I can't believe you had dinner at Balzac.

I thought I ordered two eggs Benedict
and one spinach omelette.

- I'll take the omelette.
- We'll pay for this ourselves, all right?

- He said order anything.
- Room service is one thing, but money...

What are you getting so uptight about?

Money is power, sex is power,
money for sex is an exchange of power.

Don't listen to
the dime store Camille Paglia.

Should I take it
as a compliment or an insult?

Just take it, period.

I can't return it because
he didn't leave his phone number.

He paid in full, what more is there to say?
Who is Amalita Amalfi anyway?

I'm concerned you've been drafted
into a ring of high-class hookers.

She isn't a hooker.
She's like an international party girl.

She's a hooker with a passport.
Did you ever talk about money?

No, I did allude to the fact
that I was a bit cash poor these days.

- So maybe it's supposed to be a loan?
- I don't remember filling out an application.

- Men give, women receive. It's destiny.
- Hello! Do you really mean that?

That's the argument men have been using
since the dawn of time to exploit women!

Guys! I'm gonna write the whole thing off
as a bad date with a cash bonus.

You know, that salmon is really good.
I think we should order another one.

As I struggled with the dilemma
of how to manage my new-found money...

Charlotte arrived
at the secluded Connecticut home

of the painter Neville Morgan,
in an attempt to secure his latest work.

Hi, welcome.

Hi, I feel so privileged.
Meeting you is the high point of my career.

Thank you. I'm surprised
someone so young is familiar with my work.

- Are you serious? I studied you in college!
- My God!

- I apologise, I really do.
- You're much too modest.

Here we are. Excuse me.

The canvases you're about to see
are what I consider to be the apotheosis

of every great idea I've ever had.

It's the closest I've ever come
to pure universal God force.

The cunt.

Oh, my!

- They're very powerful.
- Exactly!

The most powerful force in the universe.

The source of all life, pleasure, and beauty.

That's true.

I used to paint full nudes,
but as I got older, I realised

that the truth was to be found
only in the cunt.

Charlotte hated the '"C'" word,

but Neville Morgan was not
a man to be corrected.

Hi. I thought you
might like something to drink.

- Charlotte, this is my wife, Gertrude.
- It's a pleasure.

- Lemonade and cookies?
- Thank you.

Each of these portraits is of a woman
who has touched my life.


I wonder, would you consider
posing for me some time?

Me? I...


I'm very flattered.

Excellent. So long as you're here,
I can sketch you this afternoon.

I bet you have a beautiful cunt, dear.

As Charlotte pondered how far she'd go
for her love of art and the gallery...

Another Saturday night,

with my hooker money
still burning a hole in my pocket,

Samantha and I showed up at Balzac.

She reasoned that since I was there once,
I was as good as in.

I don't understand.
I made this reservation weeks ago,

and she's already been here.

- I'm sorry.
- Is there a host that I might talk to?

I will snap her.

I will put her over my knee
and I will snap her like a twig.

I'm sorry. I'm hungry.

I'm going to go to the bathroom,
and then we're leaving, all right?

Carrie! Ciao!

Come here!

They all looked so chic and glamorous,

part of me wanted to
grab Samantha and make a run for it,

while another part...

Hi, how are ya?

I want you to meet
Mario, Alan, Justine, and Peter.


Mario's family has a gorgeous
palazzo on the Grand Canal in Venezia.

We're all going there
next week for the film festival.

- You should join us.
- Yes! Bring your little laptop, write about it.

You'd be mad not to go!

Carrie is one of the most fascinating,
talented and beautiful women in New York.

- I have no doubt.
- I've never been to Venice.


Venice is the most beautiful,
the most romantic city in the world.

Really? I heard it was sinking.

That's why you must come immediately.

Before it's all gone.

I couldn't say I wasn't tempted.

I realised that I could leverage myself like
the human equivalent of a sexy junk bond.

I'd parlay that $1,000 into a trip to Venice,

into a nice piece of jewellery, a rich
husband, followed by a richer divorce.

Sorry, I have to say goodbye.
I'm with a friend. She's waiting for me.

What a pity.

Call me,
I'm staying at the Carlyle with Peter.

- OK, ciao.
- Ciao.

Just because Venice was sinking didn't
mean my morals had to go down with it.

And as for Gilles and the $1,000,
I figured there was nothing to be done.

For better or worse, I had just established
my rate for a one night stand.

Excuse me.

Then the most powerful woman
in Manhattan asked me for a favour.

Do you have a tampon?

Sure! Of course.

Thanks a lot.

I never told Samantha
the source of my new-found power.

But from that moment on,

we never had a problem
getting a table at Balzac again.

A couple of weeks later, we were all there
to celebrate Charlotte's coup.

Hi. Excuse me, just a second.

- Are you number nine?
- Oh, my God,

- I am so not number nine.
- Five.

Yeah, right.

It's this, right? No?



They say a picture
is worth a thousand words...

But in this case...

I was speechless.