Sex and the City (1998–2004): Season 1, Episode 7 - The Monogamists - full transcript

The Island Of Manhattan is a cosy village
populated by seven million individuals,

who all behave
like they own the sidewalk.

But lately it seemed as if the city had been
magically reduced to only two people...

us.

Four-hour conversations flew by,
and a few days apart felt like weeks.

I realised that Einstein's law of relativity

would have to be amended to explain
the peculiar effects of infatuation.

Hello?

I'm trying to get hold of a Miss Carrie
Bradshaw. She used to be a friend of mine.

- Good morning.
- Wait, I think I recognise that voice.

God, I've been meaning to call you
I've just been...



- Fucking your brains out?
- Yeah, well, that's the least of it.

I don't think that I have been
hit this hard since...

No, I won't compare it to anything,
because everything else has always ended.

Will I see you again?

- Yeah, how about tonight?
- Yeah, tonight.

Right, I'll see
if Charlotte and Samantha are free.

Big's got this dinner thing,
so we didn't have any plans.

- God, listen to yourself!
- Yeah, I know.

- I've become a horrid woman.
- Yes, you have.

- I can't talk now, I'll call later. OK?
- All right, bye.

As I hung up, I realised I'd committed
the cardinal sin...

I'd forsaken my girlfriends
for my new boyfriend.

That night I faced the tribunal.

- We really weren't that concerned.
- Just completely hurt and offended.



Actually, you missed a lot.

Miranda had worked
on a big successful merger.

Samantha was obsessed
with the idea of a new apartment.

And Charlotte...
Charlotte was practically engaged.

They met the day after I dropped
off the edge of the earth.

He was Michael Conway, from a good
family, and he absolutely adored Charlotte.

I think this might be it.
I think this might be the one.

- We've met him, he's perfect.
- Even his dog is perfect.

But... there is one thing.

Last night, after seeing the Philharmonic,

they went to his place
and began the classic dating ritual...

the blow job tug of war.

- Oh, come on.
- Not tonight.

- When?
- Sometime.

- The truth is, I hate doing it.
- Honey, you can't be serious.

You never perform this act?

She'll juggle,
she'll spin plates, but she won't give head.

I don't like putting it in my mouth.
It makes me want to puke.

- That's one way to say no.
- It's not like I haven't tried.

I practiced on a banana.
I pretended it was a Popsicle, but...

I just don't like it.

I love it until the guy
wants me to swallow.

- That's a judgment call.
- Some men take it personally if you don't.

- Some guys don't give you a choice.
- That's bad behavior.

- You honestly like it?
- It's not my favourite thing on the menu,

but I'll order it from time to time,
and with the right guy, it can be nice.

Oral sex is God's gift to women -
you needn't worry about getting pregnant.

Plus the sense of power is such a turn-on,
you've got him by the balls.

That is the reason
that I don't want to go down this road.

Sweetheart, if you're gonna get
all choked up about it... just don't do it.

If you don't go down on him,
you can't expect him to go down on you.

I don't.

Oh, well, forget it!
I only give head to get head.

Me, too.

A few hours and a couple of bottles later,
vows of friendship renewed,

we were almost
out the door when...

- Isn't that Mr Big?
- Yeah. I'm gonna go over and say hi.

- Ditching us now would be bad form.
- I'm not gonna ditch you.

- Surprise.
- Hey, Carrie! How are you?

Good, good. I was just here with my posse
having dinner, and I saw you.

Oh, Carrie, this is Julia Woods.
Julia, Carrie Bradshaw.

Nice to meet you.

- Can I talk to you for a second?
- Sure.

Excuse me.

- Are you on a date?
- Sort of.

You said you had
a business thing tonight.

- I said a dinner thing.
- Well, she's stunning.

And I should know
because frankly, she stunned me.

- Enjoy your dinner.
- Are you OK?

Oh, sure. I was just, you know,

I didn't realise
you were dating other women.

Not a lot of other women.
Why don't we talk about this Saturday?

Sure, sure. So... enjoy your dinner.
Oh, already said that. Well, enjoy it twice.

Here we go.

I can't believe it,
he's seeing other women!

Prick.

True, we had never
discussed exclusivity.

While for me, seeing another man

would be like trying to fit another outfit
into an over-stuffed suitcase,

Big was dating another woman like it was
the most natural thing in the world.

Is it that men have an innate aversion
to monogamy, or is it more than that?

I wondered. In a city like New York,
with its infinite possibilities,

has monogamy become
too much to expect?

I've been in a monogamous
relationship for over a year.

It's been wonderfully fulfilling.

Of course, my definition of monogamy
includes sex with prostitutes.

The problem with monogamy,
it's just so incredibly dull.

My lover and I have
a kind of 90's monogamy.

We have sex with other people, but we
don't exchange fluids or phone numbers.

Hello.

Monogamy is fabulous. It gives you a deep
connection to another human being

and you needn't shave your legs as much.

Of course, I'm monogamous.
Why, what have you heard?

This is the c-line.
This is the best in the building.

Have you ever seen
any place like this? Is this to die?

It's nice.

Hold this. Just a second.

Excuse me. Excuse me,
was someone looking for a view?

Oh, Pamela, it's beautiful,
but it's a little out of my price...

I know, I know. I just love
to show the cr?me de la cr?me.

I'll break my ass for you, sweetheart.
I just want one small favour in return.

My first born?

No, sweetheart,
I don't even want my own kids.

- Promise not to work with another broker.
- Of course!

Samantha didn't believe in monogamy,
especially with real estate agents.

This is a pre-war six.
Notice the classic lines. Very solidly built.

Although Pamela had
the hottest contacts in town,

Rick did have a slight
competitive edge.

Samantha could combine
her two greatest loves -

sex and real estate.

That afternoon I dragged my poor tortured
soul out to lunch with Stanford Blatch,

and attempted to stun it
senseless with cosmopolitans.

Monogamy is out again.

It had a brief comeback in the '90s,
but as the millennium approaches,

everyone's leaving
their options open.

Wouldn't you commit to a nice guy?

I can't even commit
to a long distance carrier.

You know you're a whore.

I wish that were true.

- Hey, Stanford.
- Hey, Jared, how are you?

My book was well reviewed
in Entertainment Weekly.

How marvellous. Oh, Jared,
have you met Carrie Bradshaw?

- No, but I've read your column. Nice shit.
- Thanks.

You should write about me,
my life's fucked up.

Jared is the writer of the book
'"Avenue B'".

New York Magazine just named him one of
the 30 coolest people under 30 in the city.

What an honour.

If they were doing the 30 sexiest women
under 30, you'd top the list.

- You're quite the storyteller, aren't you?
- That's no lie.

The magazine's party is tomorrow at Luna.
I'll put your names at the door.

- Thanks.
- So you'll be there?

- I'll do my best.
- Groovy.

Ciao.

What was happening to me?

I used to get a rush when men
hit on me during their 15 minutes of fame.

In this case, it merely felt exhausting.

- Hello.
- Well, hello.

I'm calling to confirm
tomorrow night. Are we still on?

Yeah, of course, why wouldn't we be?

I was striving for noncommittal, but I was
worried I had just bordered on shrill.

- I'll pick you up at eight.
- Yeah, eight's fine.

- I miss you, baby.
- Yeah. Me, too.

There were so many questions
I wanted him to answer, but would not ask.

Not tonight at least.
No, tonight I would ask Miranda.

He said, '"I miss you, baby.'"
Was that some kind of coded mea culpa?

Like, '"I've been an idiot. Forgive me
for having dinner with another woman'"?

- Exactly.
- Could be.

So everything that he ever said
that I thought was sincere is subjective.

So what I perceive
as his feelings for me

may only be projections
of my feelings for him.

What?

Oh, God, I'm freaking. I gotta stop.

Hey, Carrie!

- Hey!
- Hey, you guys, great to see you.

- What are you up to?
- Just hanging.

Alison, this is Miranda and Carrie.

- Miranda and Carrie, this is Alison.
- Hello.

- I've heard so much about you.
- Me too.

We're big fans of your column at Vogue.

- You work at Vogue?
- Yeah, designer relations.

Skipper and I just had
the most incredible meal.

- It's this little hole in the wall.
- This darling French bistro.

I lived a year in Paris
and never ate so well, and cheap.

Really?

Go quick before The Times
destroys it with a rave.

- It's great to see you guys.
- Yeah, great meeting you.

- Goodnight.
- Bye!

- Who was that self-important bitch?
- Skipper's new girlfriend.

She seemed all right.

I didn't think that was his type.

That's true, Miranda, you're his type.

But you broke up
with him, remember?

Something looks different.
Has he been working out?

Hey, Skipper here,
leave me a message.

Hi, Skipper, it's Miranda.

I just wanted to say it was
great running into you today, and...

You looked great. Did you do something
different to you hair?

Hello? Miranda.
Hey, I can't talk right now.

That's OK. I just wanted to say

maybe... I thought we could
have dinner some night.

- Seriously?
- Yeah, I miss you.

I'll call you later.

Is everything OK?

Alison, I think you're great...

But I've gotta be totally honest
with you.

The woman who I think I love
just called and asked me back.

You're breaking up with me while
you're still inside of me?

As Skipper rededicated
his singular affection for Miranda,

Charlotte was receiving her own
declaration of monogamy.

What do you think about not seeing anyone
else but each other?

- Really?
- Yeah.

- That might be a good idea.
- I think it's the best idea I've ever had.

Well, in that case, absolutely.

And while Charlotte embraced fidelity,

and Samantha flaunted her infidelity...

I found myself
caught somewhere in between.

- Who's crowded apartment are we in?
- Max, he's an old friend of mine.

Becky is his second wife.
She's a doll, you'll love her.

Hey, there, stranger.

Melissa.

- This is Carrie Bradshaw.
- Hi. Love your column, never miss it.

- Thanks.
- I've been trying to call you.

You still have my passport.

- She's a friend I once travelled with.
- Internationally, I would imagine.

Let's find Max.

Hey, Max!

Excuse me.
Glad you could make it.

Max, I want you to meet
someone very special.

Julia.

Actually it's Carrie.

Carrie, well, welcome.

Carrie writes this fantastic
column in The New York Star.

It's called Sex And The City.

Well, if you're looking for material,
you're dating the right man.

Oh, thank you, Max,
thank you very much.

Are we dating? I thought
we were just sleeping together.

Well, I'm sure after tonight,
we won't be doing much of either.

Excuse me.

I'll be right back.

Carrie.

You've got to be kidding.

- How many women are you dating?
- In this area?

Well, let's see there's me, Julia,

and let's not forget
international Melissa.

- I'm not doing this here.
- Fine.

- Can we just enjoy the party?
- I don't know.

Come on,
what do you want from me?

What do I want from you?

Nothing.

I don't want anything from you.
I have to go, I'm sorry.

I felt like a fool. I had gone
so far out on a limb with my feelings

that I didn't realise
I was standing out there alone.

When life gets this confusing,
sometimes there's only one thing to do,

attend a fabulous party.

- Hey, Stanford.
- Carrie, what a surprise!

- Where's...
- Don't ask.

- What happened?
- He became predictable.

How predictable?

- Hey, you made it.
- Hey, Jared.

- I'll get you a drink.
- Cosmopolitan, thanks.

In a room where everyone
was gorgeous, cool, and under 30,

monogamy suddenly seemed
like a quaint notion.

That was so great.

- Don't you want to lie like this forever?
- Well, for a few minutes anyway.

I missed you. And I want you
to know that that other woman

doesn't mean a thing to me.

Oh, that's all right.
I don't mind if you keep seeing her.

Oh, God, no. I broke up with her
the second that you called.

- Skipper, you didn't have to do that.
- Of course, I did.

I was so happy. We were still doing it while
I was talking to you and I didn't realise.

- You're kidding, right?
- No, isn't that crazy?

Yeah, that's exactly what it is, crazy.

Listen, Skipper, I'm not ready
for a full blown relationship thing.

- What?
- I mean we can see each other

and still see other people, right?

No. No, we can't. At least, I can't.

- Why did you call me back anyway?
- I'm sorry, I thought...

I'm not your private stud horse,
Miss dial-a-fuck.

- Come here, come back.
- I'm tired of being jerked around.

I hope you find
what you're looking for.

While Miranda misjudged
the intensity of Skipper's feelings,

Michael left Charlotte no doubt about his.

You're amazing.
You've got everything I'm looking for,

and I've never found before
in one woman.

Brains, taste, class...

And you're very, very, sexy.

Thank you.

- What's the problem?
- I hate doing it.

You hate giving blow jobs?

- It's not that big of a deal, is it?
- Well, sort of.

Can't you just do it for me?

Would you really want me to do
something that I didn't want to do?

- You'll get used to it.
- No, I won't.

I never have, sorry.

Well, I plan on getting
a lot of blow jobs in the future,

and I'm hoping that
you're around when I get them.

What's that supposed to mean?

It means I'll have to
find them somewhere else.

You're telling me that you would give up
a woman who really cares for you,

who would share your hopes
and your fears, and your dreams,

the future possible mother
of your children, all for a blow job?

You're right.

- Will you at least lick my balls?
- Goodbye, Michael.

Michael was upset,
but Butterscotch seemed pleased.

She was finally back in her
monogamous relationship.

Half past midnight.
In a city that never sleeps,

neither did the real estate market.

- It's beautiful.
- Isn't it?

It went on the market at midnight
and you're the first one to see it.

Two bedrooms, pre-war,
fireplace and views.

- Everything you wanted.
- I love it, I really love it.

- I knew you would.
- Let's celebrate.

Oh, my God! I can't believe
that you are working with another broker.

I can't believe you weren't
gonna show me this apartment.

2:00am and I already
had a new man in my life.

The greatest thing about writing,
besides the validation and acclaim,

is knowing that
I'm pumping my ideas into the world.

I thought it was that
you could behave like an asshole

and people would find you amusing.

I'm in love with you, you know that?

I'm in love with you.

- Will you go home with me tonight?
- One minute, I have to make a call.

Hello.

I'm at this very cool party
for very cool people under 30,

and this very cool novelist
wants to take me home.

- What the hell happened to you?
- His name is Jared.

He's really cute and really successful,
and he just put his arms around me.

- Here, say hello, Jared.
- Hello, Jared.

- That was Jared.
- Carrie, just get over here.

- No, you get over here.
- I can't, I don't know where you are.

I'm at the Luna Park Cafe.
Meet me out front, you're not on the list.

45 minutes later, I realised
I was alone in a park at 3am.

And that it was time to call it a night.

What are you doing back here?
You said to meet out front.

- This is the front.
- This isn't the front, this is the back.

I've been waiting out front
for 30 goddamn minutes.

You see those doors?
That's the front.

- You were waiting at the street entrance.
- The street entrance is the front entrance.

Depending on where you're coming from.

OK. I'm here, now, what's going on?

I've done the merry-go-round
and the revolving door.

I feel like I met somebody
I can stand still with for a minute and...

Don't you want
to stand still with me?

You dragged me out to a park to ask me
if I want to stand still with you?

Yes.

In a city of infinite options,

sometimes there's no better feeling
than knowing you only have one.