Sex and the City (1998–2004): Season 6, Episode 17 - The Cold War - full transcript

Carrie is embarrassed to be presented to Aleksander's artistic friends now he's getting another Paris exposition and enjoys four cold days in his apartment. Miranda is grumpy during their move to Brooklyn, but Steve delivers in every respect. Samantha and Smith Jerrod invite Stanford and Marcus Adant- the Tattle Tale concludes Smith is gay; Sam won't have that undo her rep, so she makes and launches a saucy video with Jerry on the web. Big is calling Carrie again but she deletes his messages. Charlotte is enamored with her puppy, and decides to enter her for a dog show, with Anthony as groomer and inviting the girls plus Stannie- the mutt has her period but still wins. Carrie unexpectedly brings the girls to visit the Russian, but he tells them to keep out of the atelier as he's working.

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When it gets cold outside,
New Yorkers head inside...

and look for ways to generate heat.

Hey, watch those hands, mister.

They are cold and you are warm, so...

People are looking.

No one is looking.



Seated at the star table, I see.

Where else would I be?

- Come and join us.
- No, we wouldn't want to...

- No.
- Yes, come.

You've saved our lives.

10,000 restaurants in New York,
and everyone's at Pastis.


This is John Paul Sandal,
the most fantastic painter in New York.

I'm not paying for lunch.

- You know my assistant Lee.
- Yes. Hi.

Audra Clark.
She's the editor of Art/Life magazine.

- Carrie Bradshaw.
- Hi.

Handsome Lee has just informed us
of your upcoming show in Paris.

- Congratulations.
- Yeah, right.

A solo exhibit
at the Galerie Nationale du Jeu de Paume...

Just another day.

- You are so full of shit.
- I never said I wasn't.

This is your first new exhibit in, what,
four years?


The world is waiting
with breath that is bated.

We need menus and a wine list.

- So, how are they?
- The oysters? Very good.

No, his pieces.

I don't know. I haven't seen them yet.

- Are you an artist as well?
- No, I'm a writer.


No, I write a column for a newspaper.

- The Times?
- The New York Star.

It's a very good column.
About women, men, and sex.

Very smart, and very funny.

I'm sure.

You're not sure, you are snide.

- May I borrow your newspaper?
- No, what are you...

Let them listen.

"It's my belief
that the last time anyone actually enjoyed...

"the 69 position was in 1969."

I think it's funny.

That wasn't one of my smartest.

And further uptown,
Charlotte didn't mind the cold.

She had a new puppy love to keep her warm.

- That is the most precious little thing.
- Thank you.

- What's her name?
- Elizabeth Taylor.

That is the fourth person to stop and gush.

I swear, that dog's getting cruised
more than me...

and we're on the corner of Gay and Gay.

She loves the attention, doesn't she?

Look how she prances along.
Do you see her prancing?

Yes, she's very prancey.

She was a show dog.
She even competed at Westminster.

Did she ever win anything?

No, but I think that was only because
her last owner wasn't very supportive.

I think she misses the competition.
See how she's showing off?

She's a freaking attention-whore.

- Cute dog.
- Thank you.

I'm thinking of re-entering her.

I think with my love,
and a little encouragement...

she could actually win. What do you think?

What the hell? Do it.

"Nobody puts Baby in the corner."

Dirty Dancing. Hello?

And over in Brooklyn,
someone was not feeling so prancey.

Your face is freezing.

I had to walk all the way from the subway
in these heels, and my feet hurt.

Why don't you carry them
and wear sneakers like everyone else?

Stop. You can take me out of Manhattan,
but you can't take me out of my shoes.

Then stop complaining about them.

You're right, I have much bigger things
to complain about.

Did you get a chance
to install my DSL line today?

I was putting up Sheetrock in Brady's room.

Steve, you know I can't live
without internet access.

You want your kid to live without walls?

Here, this ought to cheer you up.

The Pony Express
finally got our address right.

- We have mail?
- Yeah.

My Tattle Tale came.

Finally, a connection to the real world.

I can't believe that you read that crap.

I love it. It's my thing. Let it go.

- Magda and Brady are...
- I'm reading this. You no longer exist.

That night, over at the only restaurant
that seemed to exist...

There's Samantha's boyfriend Smith.

- Where?
- Star table. Let's say hello.

I'm nervous. He is so unbelievably hot
in that Gus Van Sant movie.

But can he pull off
a fuchsia Oswald Boateng shirt?

Hi. Sorry to interrupt.

We've met before.
We're friends of Samantha's.

I hear she's a wonderful woman.

My God.

That's a good look for you.
It's very Jefferson Starship.

I decided to turn a little hair loss
into a lot of hair gain.

You're getting wiggy with it.

Come on, jam in here, right next to me.

We don't want to disturb...

Are you kidding? Any friend of Samantha's.


This is my boyfriend Marcus.
Marcus, Smith Jerrod.

What are you drinking? Looks yummy.

Smith Jerrod.

All right.

- How you doing, boss?
- Dude, my girl loves you.

You gotta let me get a picture.

- Only if you get my friends here.
- All right.

I heard...

that Aleksandr Petrovsky
is having a solo show in Paris.

Don't believe everything you hear.

It's exciting. Tell me about your show.

Why would I want to talk about my work...

when I have you in bed with me?

Because I want to know about it.
Because it's important to you.

This is what's important to me.

I'm serious. Come on.

So am I. Very serious.

I just...

I want to know more about what you do...

if for no other reason...

than I would like to avoid
having this face in restaurants.

I prefer to keep
my work and my private life separate.

All this art talk is so fucking boring.

It wouldn't be to me.

Then you are the exception to the rule.

If you're not going to tell me...

about the Galerie Nationale
de blah-blah-blah...

then I need to get serious
about my busy day.

Don't go.

- I have many important...
- The schedule.

You're so New York.

Stay here, do nothing.

Get in trouble, be spontaneous.

But I'm meeting people for things.

It's cold out there.
Stay here, where it's warm.

Samantha, I don't know
how to tell you this...

but I was reading my Tattle Tale,
and there's a picture of Smith.

Miranda! What in the world are you doing
reading something like that?

I love it. It's my thing. Let it go.

Smith is always in that rag.

Yeah, but this time...

he's gay.

"Smith Jerrod cozies up to
Broadway dancer, Marcus Adant...

"and unidentified older gay gentleman."

Poor Stanford.

- Smith is not gay.
- Of course not.

- So this makes you his beard.
- I'm a beard in a wig.

You're not upset?

Please, after the Big C,
you don't sweat the small stuff.

And besides, once the gay rumors start,
it means you're really a star.


Hi, sweetie. It's me.

Carrie, where are you?

Bad news. I don't think I'm gonna make it.

You can't come? Are you okay?

I'm fine. I'm just all the way downtown
with the Russian...

and it's very cold out.

She's still downtown, and it's too cold.

We haven't seen you in forever,
and I have news.

Elizabeth Taylor
is going to be in a dog show.

My Elizabeth Taylor.


And Miranda really wants to talk to you,
and Smith is gay.

What do you mean, you're not coming?

Smith is gay?

Don't change the subject.
I came all the way from Brooklyn.

Who are you kidding?
You'd use any excuse to come in the city.

You owe me a trip to Brooklyn.


We're fine, everything's fine.
Smith is not gay.

It's too cold to leave the house.
You stay downtown with your hot man.


Which is exactly what I did
for the next four days.

With my column tragically overdue...

I finally left the Russian's warm apartment.

Good God.

And came home to the tropics.

When you've been spending
all your time in your new world...

it's easy to forget that there might be people
trying to reach you from your old world.

Hey, kid. How's it going?

We just put our new cabernet to bed.
Made me think of you.

Give me a call.

Saturday, 10.'00 p.m.

Playing hard to get, huh?

Called your cell,
but I think I copied the number wrong.

Unless you're a ticked-off guy named Paco.

Hey, I want to talk to you. Call me.

Monday, 2.'00 p.m.


It's me. Again.

Listen, did I do something to tick you off?

If I did, call me and I'll apologize, okay?


Wednesday, 8.'00 p.m.


I deleted Big.

- You deleted Big?
- Yep.

Did you call him
to tell him you deleted him?

- Nope.
- That's new.

Delete, delete, delete.
Three messages last week.

- What do you think he was calling about?
- Don't know.

And for the first time, don't really care.

After his last trip, I finally got it.
What's the point?

Things are serious with the Russian.

Really? That's great.

It's just so different and so...



There's not a lot of fuss.

There's no confusion about
how he feels about me.

He tells me all the time.

Unlike answering machine up there in Napa.

- Sounds perfect.
- Yeah.

- There's just one thing.
- Thank God.

I was beginning to feel bad
about Steve and me. What's the thing?

We don't really have anything in common
but each other.

We're not really involved
in each others' lives.

He never shares anything about his work.

- I don't talk to Steve about my work.
- And he doesn't mind?

- I think he prefers it that way.
- But you guys share everything else.

Because we're in Brooklyn.
There's no one else to talk to.

Besides, Carrie, every couple's different.

Yeah, I guess I just had this idea
about a couple sharing everything.

At least their passions.

You want passions on top of passion?

Carrie, welcome back.

You see the new walls? Nice progress, huh?

- I'll say! It's really coming together.
- What's all that?

I stopped off and picked up
some dessert for you ladies.

Brooklyn's finest. Cheesecake and cannolis.

What a delightful borough.

I'll put this stuff out in the kitchen.

I love having your friends over.

I want you to meet him. My Russian.

Can't wait.

That log is really heating up the joint, huh?

Good morning.

All night again?

How's the work going?

It was clear from his silence...

we weren't having
passions on top of passions for breakfast.

What are you doing Sunday night?

I have no idea. Why?

I was thinking, since I met
some of your friends the other day...

maybe you could meet some of my friends.

Those people were my colleagues,
not my friends.

My friends are mostly in Europe.

My friends are here, and they are fantastic.

Then on Sunday,
I'll be happy to meet your fantastic friends.


And FYI, you have a friend in New York. Me.

You're not my friend, you are my lover...

and that is a much better thing.

- Come to bed.
- No.

I have to go home. I have to write
my column. I can't turn it in late again.

- Work here.
- I can't. My computer's at home.

I have computer,
very good for writing columns.

You would let me use
your fancy computer?

In exchange for one hour in bed.


They say that opposites attract,
but they never say for how long.

Should the relationship-savvy person...

stoke the fires of passion
with the kindling of work and friends?

Or should we simply be satisfied
with the romance that sizzles?

I couldn't help but wonder.

Without sharing your worlds...

can even the hottest relationship stop cold?

Meanwhile, Samantha was about to hear
the hottest rumor...

from the city's hottest rumor mill,
two young PR girls.

Did you see that picture
of Smith Jerrod online?

I can't believe he's gay.

No one that good-looking is ever straight.

I thought he was dating Samantha Jones.

All this time, I thought
she had the hottest sex life in New York city.

It turns out she's just a fag hag.

And that stopped Samantha cold.

And here comes the hound group.
This is a beautiful group.

There's the Pharaoh Hound champion,
Eleanor Pendragon...

four-time best-in-show winner.

Take a look at that outfit.

Everyone is talking about me.

In the blink of a tabloid,
I went from Demi to Liza.

At least people know who you are.

"Unidentified older gay gentleman."

Marcus got three auditions off that picture.
I got outed.

Poor Stanny.

How can they just assume I'm gay?

I've got $10 on Lord Reginald IV
down there. Any takers?

You are a good friend.
All the way from Brooklyn...

to see a bunch of dogs run in a circle.

She came to watch my baby get baptized.
I came to watch her baby get judged.

I almost didn't show my face. "Fag hag."

There go years and years
of fucking everything that walks.

I thought
you weren't gonna sweat the small stuff.

I can't have cancer and be a fag hag.

You guys wanna have drinks
with the Russian tomorrow night?

- Sure.
- I'm in.

Me, too.

Sweetie, I'm sorry.
It's just the girls this time.

What am I now,
your unidentified older gay friend?

You'll be in the next round, I promise.

I gotta go backstage
and check on the little mother.

Take your time. We've still got
Sporting and Working and Toy.

This was not the type of blow job
I was hoping for today.

She looks so pretty. Yes, she does.

Did you see how impressed
the host committee was?

I really think she has a chance.

You think with all these faggy little dogs...

there'd be at least
one horny circuit muscle gay here.

No, nothing but boxy, thick-legged ladies
and tweedy old queens.

Did you cut yourself with the scissors?
There are drops of blood here.

Wait, it's coming from her.

No, don't tell me...

She's in heat.

Hey, how's it...

- What's wrong?
- The frigging dog just got her period.

- Excuse me?
- Yeah.

Aunt Flo's in doggy town. Show over.

Don't say that. We can still compete.

I once won a junior gymnastics meet
when I had mine.

It's a dog.

What're you gonna do? Run around
looking for a teeny tiny tampon?

You're right. It's not funny.

I'm a woman. I should know better.

Elizabeth Taylor just got her period.

- What?
- Backstage.

That time of the month.

I thought she looked a little bloated.

And she was so bitchy earlier.

And here come the toy dogs.

Many viewers don't realize
that these little dogs...

can actually be a lot harder to care for
than dogs 10 times their size.

The judge has narrowed it down to...

the Toy Poodle, champion Diamond Keiko...

the Shih Tzu, champion Yurisaki...

the Pomeranian,
champion Justy Greystoke...

and the King Charles Spaniel,
Elizabeth Taylor.

Come on, Elizabeth Taylor!

Charlotte was a dog show natural...

thanks to her blue blood background.

Let me see the move.

And speaking of blood...

The judge is examining the dog's gait
one more time before he makes his decision.


It's the King Charles Spaniel...

followed by the Shih Tzu, the Pomeranian...

That's my friend.

All the dogs were champions.

But to the judge,
Charlotte was the best in show.


Samantha Jones. I thought that was you.

Tom, what are you doing here?

I handle the press for this tacky thing.

Listen, could I get Smith Jerrod's number?

Tom, no.

I'm fucking him.

Sure you are.

I'm a laughingstock.
I have got to put a stop to this.

And from dog show to doggy show...

Are you sure you want to do this?

It worked for Paris Hilton.
I need to set the record straight, literally.

But I don't care if people think I'm gay.

This isn't about you.

Now, when we get going, make sure to say:

"Samantha Jones,
you are one hot piece of ass.

"I could fuck you all night long,
Samantha Jones."

How are you gonna get this around?

I'm a PR pro.

I know exactly
whose hands to drop this into.

The very next day, two PR girls...

got an anonymous XXX from FedEx.

Go get it.

You have to come next time.
She was so happy.

You know what would make her happy?
Letting her off that show leash.

No, I don't think so. What if she gets hurt?

Come on, honey.
Give her a little victory lap on her own.

You're right.

Okay, Elizabeth. Go play.


She made a little friend. Isn't that sweet?


Stop that!

She's a blue ribbon winner. Stop it!

Honey, go! Do something! Harry!


Stay away.

Get them off! Get off of Elizabeth Taylor!

There are more coming, honey!

Watch out for the big one!

Elizabeth Taylor got
gang-banged in the park?

God, that's so '80s.

There we were at Asia de Cuba,
waiting for my lover de Russia.

Hi, where are you?

Seriously, I could not believe
how many dogs she was with.

It was disgusting. My sweet little girl.

I think she's a woman now.


No, I understand.

Okay, I will.


He's not gonna make it.

- That's too bad.
- Is he okay?

No, he's just in the middle of something
at his studio. He can't stop right now.

I understand. If he's feeling inspired,
then he shouldn't stop.

He's getting ready for this big exhibit
at some Paris museum.

He's been staying up nights.

I'm disappointed.
I wanted you guys to meet him.

Another time.

Compliments of a Mr. Petrovsky
with sincere apologies.

Why don't we finish these off...

crack this open, give him time,
then go there and say hello?

Honey, are you sure
you want to disturb him?

Yeah, we'll just go say hi.

He's always telling me
to be more spontaneous.

A couple of cocktails
and a bottle of champagne later...

Eighth floor, lingerie.

Apartment. Studio.

He has the whole floor.

Wait a minute. Sister's gotta get ready.



- What are you doing?
- I'm being spontaneous.

I told you I was working.

I know, but I just wanted
my friends to meet you.

Charlotte you've met.

This is Miranda,
and Samantha, a.k.a. Foxy Brown.

- Hello.
- Hello.

And I wanted them to see the house.

When I say I am working, I'm working, okay?

I'm sorry, guys. I'm very busy.

But please do stay. Enjoy the apartment.

We'll meet one day, all right? Sorry.

I'm sorry, I thought...

- It's fine.
- He's working.

Do you guys
still want to see the apartment?

It's late.

I should get back to Brooklyn,
before Steve thinks I've defected.

Another time.
Foxy is ready to hang up her wig.

Do you want to come
share a cab with me uptown?

No, I think I'm gonna stay.

- Okay.
- Okay, sleep tight.


I am so glad to be home.

You are?

I love you for loving my friends.

And I love you for new walls...

and cheesecake, cannoli.

If you love me for that stuff,
what's gonna happen now?

I put in your DSL line.


And although Steve had satisfied Miranda,
she still wanted more.

Samantha Jones,
you are one hot piece of ass.


I could fuck you all night long,
Samantha Jones.

Samantha's hot tape
cooled Miranda's love of gossip for good.

Or at least for now.

And try as I might...

I could not forget
the Russian's icy treatment of my friends.

I need to talk to you.

I know that you're busy,
but those were my...

Is something...

Are you okay?

Yeah, I'm fine.

No, you are not fine.

Did something happen with...

the piece?

Come on, talk to me.

What if it's not enough?

All these pieces.

Six years.

It's going to be enough.

It's true,
I don't know anything about the piece.

But you are brilliant.

"The world is waiting
with breath that is bated."

She's just an uptight bitch.

That's better. You were a little scary.

So talk to me. What's the problem?

I may not understand, but I'll listen.

Yesterday, I looked up...

and the entire thing looked so...

utterly stupid and flat and needless...

and childish.

It's a cold hard fact.

Sometimes, there's not enough time
in a night for both your worlds.

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