Sex and the City (1998–2004): Season 3, Episode 15 - Hot Child in the City - full transcript

34-year old Miranda feels a teenage girl again when her dentist gives her braces. Samantha is jealous of a 13-year old, super-rich client, who seems to have skipped the teen years ...

If you've lived in New York for ten years,
you can call yourself a New Yorker.

But the trained eye can always
spot the ones who were born here.

I want it all, I want it now,
and I want you to get it for me.

After firing her last two publicists,

Jenny Brier,
the daughter of a restaurateur,

had decided that Samantha

would handle
the PR for her upcoming party.

I want "Vanity Fair", Carson Daly,

"People", "Teen People", NSYNC...

Jenny, sweetie. Don't take this
the wrong way, but how old are you?

- Hello, it's my Bat Mitzvah party. I'm 13.
- You're 13?

What are you, 45?

Just like that, the meeting was over.

I'm sorry, I don't do kids parties.

Sweetie, my father has invited over 300

of his powerful friends.

They are not all coming.
The Clintons can't make it.

I told daddy we'll be lucky
if we can swing this for under a mill.

What do I know, I'm just a kid.

We'll never get NSYNC.

After meeting her new client,
Samantha met us

for the latest trend in power lunching -

haute cafeteria cuisine.

Coming in for a landing, sister?

Cute guy. Thought he was
checking me out for a second.


Don't turn...

- He's a cutie all right.
- Definitely looking.

Looking at you looking at him,
like I asked you not to.

- Take your tray over there.
- No.

Why not?

This isn't PS 147,
we're adults now. She's married.

We have to at least pretend to know better.

- I went to the doctor about my headaches.
- Still looking.

Which you're not helping.

I've been trying
to diagnose myself on the Internet.

You can do that?

Type in your symptoms
and wait for the word "cancer" to appear.

Anyway, turns out I'm a tongue-thruster.

If you were a man,
that would be a good thing.

My tongue pushes against my front teeth,
so my bite is all off.

- My dentist thinks I have TMJ.
- You have to do something.

- I'm going to the orthodontist tomorrow.
- No, I mean he's really cute.

- She could write him a note.
- Even cuter.

Guys, I'm not writing him a note.

- Dear Mr Cutie-Cute...
- You did not write that.

- Just your phone number.
- I'm not giving him my number.

Relax, TMJ. You don't have to.

- I'll do it for you.
- Carrie.

- Go, girl.
- Oh, my God.

Hi. I'm sorry to bother you,
but my friend Miranda over there...

- Oh, my God.
- She thinks you're cute.

Please tell your friend Miranda to call me.

On the way home,
I decided to brave the afternoon heat

to see if my shoe repair guy
could do anything about my old soles.

But when I got there,
there was no "there" there.

- What happened to Artie?
- Artie?

My guy, my shoe guy.
He fixed these the last time.

He moved back to Williamsburg.
Brooklyn, not Colonial.

He couldn't afford the place
once they destabilised the rent.

If the comic business keeps going
the way it is, I won't be able to either.

- Comics aren't selling, huh?
- No, especially mine.

Power Lad, by Wade Adams.

Is this you? Did you draw this?

What's so powerful about him?

He's a superhero, or he wants to be.
His parents were superheroes.

He's trying to find his super-powers.
They haven't kicked in yet.

It's stupid.
What do you do?

- I'm a writer.
- That's cool. What do you write?

Turn to page seven of your newspaper.

Yes, I thought you looked familiar.

- Do you ever think about writing comics?
- Aren't they a boy thing?

No way. There are woman superheroes -
Batgirl, Supergirl, Black Canary...

You've heard of Wonder Woman.

With the bracelets and the tiara.

I used to love that even her accessories
had super-powers.

Oh, man.

What's wrong with them?

To them, you are Wonder Woman.

- All right, stop. I'll buy some.
- All right.

I never did get my shoes fixed.
But the following week, I got new boots.

I don't know what came over me,
but I felt compelled to thank him.

Even as a superhero,
I was powerless to resist.

That evening,
inspired by Miranda's digital diagnosis,

Charlotte went surfing
for a cure for Trey's condition.

There it was,
in both the on- and off-positions.

$8,000 worth of hydraulics
that could turn Trey into the Bionic Man.

Ordinarily, this was something
Charlotte would shy away from,

but since her marriage was shy of wood...

That night, I met Wade Adams
alias Power Lad at Bar Code,

the Times Square bar that specialised
in real drinks and virtual reality.

I can't believe this place,
it's like ten bucks a game.

Yeah, but games come with beer.

They want you to play
half as well and twice as much.

Sounds good to me. What will it be -
Bloodburst or Terrorfright II?

Whatever happened
to Frogger and Miss Pacman?

- She got married.
- No! To Pacman?

Good for them. Man, where have I been?

I don't know, but wanna go to Mars?

- For ten bucks? It's a bargain.
- Let's go.

Without leaving the building,

Power Lad took me
to the furthest reaches of the galaxy

and right back to seventh grade.

- There we go.
- Oh, God.

It was maddening.

Bram and Pippin favoured the '78 Lafite,
which was entirely acceptable.

The implant's on/off-switch
had Charlotte thinking about Trey's.

She desperately wanted to turn his on,
but didn't know where to find it.

The joke was on him. We ordered both.

How was your day?

I went to the gallery in the morning
and the framer's in the afternoon.

Then I found this on the internet. See?

What on earth is this?
What are you getting at?

Just that...

We've tried everything else and we still...

You haven' my...ever...

So I thought...

You can't be serious.

What other options do we have?

Five beers, four video games,
102 degrees outside later...

- You gotta be kidding.
- What? This is fun.

It's cheaper than taking cabs.
Besides, all the kids got them.

- Wanna try it?
- It's too hot to scoot.

We could go to my place. I have
a great view. The breeze is even better.

I'm not the kind of girl who scoots
to a guy's terrace on the first date.

I respect that.

- I have central air.
- Give me that scooter.

- Ever been on one?
- No.

- That's great.
- Thank you.

I'm scooting in heels.

You said you had a view, not the view.

And this breeze -
it's like there's different air up here.

- How do you have all this?
- Why don't I get us some beers?

Then we can talk
adventures and real estate.

How was it possible
that mild mannered Power Lad

could afford a classic six on the
Upper East Side with a view of the park?

Was he merely Power Lad by day
and secretly a millionaire playboy by night?


You scared me.

- I heard voices outside and...
- You're up.

- Did we wake you?
- You know me, always keeping the watch.

Did you meet Carrie?

Carrie, I'd like you to meet my mother.

- Hello. It's a beautiful night, isn't it?
- Yeah.

I'm off to bed.

You two have fun.

But don't stay up too late, dear.
Good night.

- Night.
- It's lovely to meet you.

Lovely to meet you too, Mrs Adams.

- He lives with his parents?
- It's their apartment.

The next day at Commune,
daddy Brier's latest restaurant,

I asked Samantha
about my prospects with Power Lad.

Not sexy. Dump him immediately.
Use my cell phone.

He put his money in the comic book store.

- Still not sexy. What's his number?
- He's saving up for his own place.

You know how tough the market is.
Plus he's fun and funny.

Stop while you're still sexy.

There's no way you'd go out with a guy
who lived with his family?

Maybe Prince William.

I'm sorry I'm late.

This happens to tongue-thrusters.

I have to wear them for a year.
Am I hideous?

No. Hey, no.
No, they don't look so bad.

- Do you mean it?
- I'm sticking to my story.

Are you in pain?
I'm in pain looking at you.

I'm a 34-year-old with braces,
and I'm on a liquid diet.

Pain doesn't begin to cover it.

- Look, lunch.
- We didn't order champagne.

- Compliments of Jenny Brier.
- You always get the nicest compliments.

Do you realise, a 13-year-old girl
bought us a $200 bottle of Dom Perignon?

Do you know what I was buying
when I was 13? Nothing.

I couldn't afford anything.
I was serving Dilly Bars at Dairy Queen.

Where is she?
Where is that little Brat Mitzvah beast?

- Is everything fabulous?
- It is now. I didn't know you were here.

I didn't know you knew Carrie Bradshaw.
You are fucking fabulous.

Your column about secret sex -
hello, my life.

Seriously. My ex was so completely
about the sex when we were alone,

but at school, I didn't exist.

- They're all like that.
- Or worse. Men suck.


I'm sorry, are your braces blue?

No, they're sapphire.
Oh my God, look.

You have the old-fashioned kind.
I didn't know they made those any more.

I'll be there. We have to dash.
Enjoy your meal, ladies.

You are so fucking fabulous.

Her braces are sapphire.
I'm a 34-year-old nerd.

- How old are they?
- 13.

- They sound...
- I know.

- They're dressed...
- I know.

Just like us.

Were Jenny Brier and her friends
dressed like 30-something-year-olds,

or were we trying to look like teenagers?

One of us was sending Dom Perignon,
another was touring around on a scooter.

When you're a teenager,
all you want to do is buy beer.

Once you hit 30,
all you want to do is get carded.

I wondered,
in today's youth obsessed culture,

are the women of my generation
growing into mature, responsible adults,

or are we 34 going on 13?

After a week of self-imposed seclusion,

Miranda felt strong enough
for solid food and table service

with Lance Bloom,
a senior editor at Knopf.

I started out wanting to be a writer,

but it's a solitary life.
I'm more interested in collaborating.

What are you working on now?

You have a little...

I just got these. They're going to
take some getting used to.

Oh my God.

What's it like to kiss somebody
with those things?

The doctor said it should be fine.

But a blow job is out of the question, right?

I was kidding.
That was a joke. I'm sorry.

He didn't want your hardware
getting too close to his software.

It's everybody.

I can't open my mouth without the whole
world looking at me like I'm a freak.

It's like I'm back in Junior High.
I was lucky to get out alive the first time.

You should think of it as mouth jewellery.
Your tooth bracelet.

I'm never dating again.

Of course you are. The guys worth dating
is not gonna care about your braces.

That was so After-School Special of you.

In the After-School Special,
you'd see him across the cafeteria.

He'd smile, and he'd have braces too.

Yeah, but the sick thing is, I would never
date a guy with braces. Even now.

Are you kidding me?
Don't you think that's childish?

- More lemonade, Carrie?
- Yes, please, Mrs Adams.

How about some nice,
homemade Toll House cookies?

Yes, please, Mrs Adams.

On closer inspection,
living with the parents wasn't so bad.

It was like having servants
you didn't have to pay.

Oh, and Carrie, can you stay for dinner?

Faced with the idea of having
hydraulic cylinders placed in his shaft,

Trey decided to pursue
the less physically demanding option

of couples counselling with a therapist
he'd found through his college alumni.

I sense you're both having difficulty
verbalising your sexual issues.

With some clients it often helps

to create your own non-threatening
language with which to talk about sex.

I'm not sure that I understand.

One client rather whimsically
dubbed his anus The Chocolate Starfish.

Are you sure you went to Yale?

Charlotte, if you could rename your vagina,

something non-sexual, something that
didn't feel threatening to you or Trey,

how would you call it?


Rebecca? Why on earth would you...

It sounds nice,
and I've always liked the name.

How do you name yours?

- This is preposterous.
- Something with positive associations.

Trey loves to sail. Don't you, Trey?

I do love to sail.

How about something like Canoe?


- Canoe doesn't go with Rebecca.
- What then?

How about...

- ...Schooner.
- Schooner's good.

Rebecca and Schooner.
Schooner's good, isn't it?

It's very good.
This is a wonderful beginning.

There's still a lot of work ahead,
some here and some at home.

Tonight, as homework,

I want you to lie down together,
side by side, without touching,

and share a sexual fantasy.

I'm a fairy princess in a forest.

I'm riding on a unicorn.

Suddenly I see a pirate in buckskins.

A prince in disguise.

That's when you pull me off my unicorn.

You tear away my gossamer petticoats,

and you put your Schooner
deep inside my Rebecca.

Now you. Where are you?

I'm in hell.

I'm sorry, Charlotte. I can't do this.

- I'm a respected surgeon. I can't.
- Yes, you can. I know you can.

We've been dealing with this for weeks.
Accept that I'm not that sexual a person.

But we love each other and...

we're married now.

Rebecca and Schooner belong together.
They need each other. Please.

You are a fairy princess.

I don't deserve you. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

That night, Wade and I
had our first sleep-over, at my place.

I finally figured out what made
Power Lad so powerful.

He had the soul of a teenage boy
in the body of a very grown-up man.

The machine will get it.

Hi. Leave a message.

Hi, Carrie.
This is Mrs Adams, Wade's mother.

How are you?

- Oh, my God.
- Sorry to bother you.

We never heard from Wade tonight
about whether he fed the dog his medicine.

Wade's father
was just about to give it to the dog,

but if he's already had it,
that would be bad.

If you speak to Wade, please tell him,

I won't go to bed until I hear from him.

Yes, mom, I gave the dog his medicine.

No, mom, I'm not mad, I just...

I told you not to call me here.

Don't call me here.

I love you too.

- She wants to talk to you.
- What?

Hi, Mrs Adams. How are you?

Several blocks south,
Charlotte's night was interrupted as well -

by odd noises coming from her bathroom.

Charlotte felt terrible.
She hadn't meant to make Trey cry.


- He told me he wasn't a sexual person.
- It wasn't sexual.

It was tension release.
It helps me sleep.

I understand.
This may be difficult, Trey,

but I want you to tell me specifically
which magazine you were using.


All right. We can try and see this
as a positive thing.

How? How is this a positive thing?

Trey was masturbating to Juggs.
At least we know he isn't gay.

Excuse me,
what exactly is the problem here?

It was tension release with a magazine,
it had nothing to do with my wife.

Interesting choice of words, Trey.

Maybe that's the problem.

We have to find a way to integrate
your wife into your sexual routine.

How are we supposed to do that?

Charlotte had no idea.

She wished they were 13, before sex
had made everything so complicated.

When holding hands and a good-night-kiss
would have been everything she needed.

To pierce the corporate veil,
the courts look at five factors -

whether the subsidiary
is wholly-owned or...

The 13-year-old girl inside Miranda
wanted to disappear,

but the 34-year-old partner in this law firm
decided she wasn't going anywhere.

You think that I'm funny? You think
the fact that I have braces is hilarious?

Let's take a moment
and have a good laugh.

Let's get it out of our systems
so we can get back to work like adults.

We were laughing
at the typo on page three.

Miranda decided that TMJ was a lot
less painful than a second adolescence.

The next day,
she had her braces removed

and resumed her life
as a 34-year-old tongue-thruster.

Trey resumed his own brand of thrusting

and discovered
that tension release could be a turn-on.

Charlotte discovered a way
to include herself in Trey's sex life.

She also figured out what to do with those
wedding proofs not suitable for framing.

The following weekend
at the Brier Bat Mitzvah party...

I'm not sure if I have your name.
Let's see, Goldman, Goldstein...

I don't see it.

I'm sure I'm on the list.

I can't believe you still have actual albums.

Oh my God, Styx. I love Styx.

- I had this album.
- Yeah, I loved "Renegade". Hated "Babe".

- How do you have this?
- Are you kidding? This is a classic.

This song is so me driving my parents'
Oldsmobile without them knowing about it.

- You know what would go great with this?
- Roller skates?


Canadian super grass.

Six times stronger than pot
and 400 bucks an ounce.

It became obvious Wade was in no hurry
to save up for his own apartment.

- And what is that?
- My bong. I made it.

- At Camp Takotoke.
- I'm sorry, Camp Takotoke?

I hadn't smoked pot out of a homemade
bong since my eighth grade boyfriend

made one out of tin foil, a BIC pen,
and a bottle of his mother's Pepsi Light.

I didn't even know if I'd remember how.

Turns out it was like riding a bike...
a ten speed.

Back at the Bat Mitzvah bash,

Samantha heard some girl talk
not suitable for little ladies.

I'm gonna fuck at least three of those
NSYNC guys after the after party.

The other two are gay.

I'd fuck them and their gay boyfriends.

Aren't you a little young
for that kind of talk?

I'm serious.
You have your whole lives to talk that way.

You should enjoy being children, at least
until you turn 15, and start having sex.

- I've given blow jobs since I'm twelve.
- Really?

- It's the only way to get guys to like you.
- That isn't true.

Talk to the hand, grandma.

Samantha had been resenting Jenny Brier
because of everything she had.

But then she realised,
she'd had something

that no amount of money could buy -
a childhood.

the Dairy Queen wasn't looking so bad.

I'm thirsty.

There's bong water.

Bong water!

Hold this.

What are you doing? That's wet.

Attack of the spicy chicken wings.


That looks like my parents' car.

Oh, shit.

- Shit, shit, shit.
- It's OK.

My parents said,
if they caught me smoking pot again,

- I'd have to sleep in the comic book store.
- Wait.


If they see billions of chicken wings,

they're gonna know...

...we've been smoking pot.

Fuck the chicken wings.
Where did we put the fucking pot?

You're home. Early.

Is that marijuana I smell?

- No, ma'am.
- God, no.

Then what is this?

Your father and I told you, if you ever
brought marijuana into this house again...

Carrie brought it.

I couldn't believe it. Power Lad
would never have ratted me out like that.

Is that true, Carrie?
Did you bring marijuana into this house?

There comes a time when you
have to take responsibility for yourself.

A time when l, like Jenny Brier,
had to stand up and say to the world,

"Today, I am a woman."

Yes, Mrs Adams,
I brought the marijuana into the house.

And I'm taking it with me when I go.

Oh, baby!

There she is.

In the end, I decided
I was definitely 34 going on 35,

but in a city like New York
with its pace and pressures,

sometimes it's important
to have a 13-year-old moment,

to remember a simpler time
when the best thing in life was hanging out,

listening to records, and having fun
with your friends - in your own apartment.