Sex and the City (1998–2004): Season 6, Episode 4 - Pick-a-Little, Talk-a-Little - full transcript

Charlotte is shocked and Berger slightly embarrassed when Samantha enthusiastically explains how she enjoys role-plays with her sexy actor Jerry "Smith" Jerrod, including fake rape. Miranda is relieved when he says a man not calling her back just means not interested, as men don't send sexual double messages. When Carrie can't help herself and criticizes a futile detail in Berger's book, even though she loves it, he shuts down; Samantha cuts of Jerry when he confesses being in AA; both couples soon make up. Charlotte makes her first sabbath a grand production- her pride and nitpicking don't make Harry set a wedding date as she desperately wanted but even walk out altogether.

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In New York City, it is a statistical fact...

that once every seven minutes,
an unsuspecting woman...

Shut the fuck up!

...dates an actor.

Let me go.
My husband will be home any minute!

For Samantha,
one of the perks of dating Jerry the actor...

was getting to stage
full-scale fantasy productions.

Please don't hurt me. I'll do anything.

Just shut the fuck up!

You are really good.

I said, shut the fuck up.

No, you shut the fuck up,
and fuck me before my husband gets home.


And then he pretended
to tie my hands behind my back...

and the whole time he kept screaming,
"Shut the fuck up."

I tell you, it is so refreshing...

to be with someone
who likes to fuck outside the box.

- And this is my friend, Samantha.
- The wallflower. Right.

That is incredibly offensive.

Violence against women
is a very serious issue.

Please, it was a fantasy.
Fantasies can't be censored.

Actually, I think the Supreme Court
is working on that right now.

All fantasies are healthy and harmless.
Don't you agree?

You know, as a guy,
I've always been under the impression...

that rape, or anything in the rape family...

is just not a good idea.

Can I go home now?

There is no greater sound than your friends
laughing at your new boyfriend's jokes.

That's not the only scenario we play.

Sometimes he's Senator Smith,
or Principal Smith.

- Cellmate Smith...
- Okay, moving on.

Miranda, how was your date
with the real estate guy?

Actually, it wasn't horrible.
He was kind of cute, and funny, and...


Dr. Smith, thank you for returning my call.

Excuse me,
he thinks I may have the mumps.

Yes, I'm swollen.

Now, that's hot.

So how did the date end?

He walked me home...

- I'm sorry, are you maxed-out on girl talk?
- No, I'm good.

I'll let you know.

So he kissed me goodnight at the door,
I invited him up.

He couldn't
because he had an early meeting.

We kissed again. Then he said he'd call.

Two kisses. Very promising.

You think, even though he didn't come up?

Definitely. It means he likes you,
but he wants to take it slow. That's nice.

Berger, what do you think?

You really want to know?

Please, I would love to have a man's opinion
for a change.

All right. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it for you.

He's just not that into you.

- That's not true!
- Don't listen to him.

No, I'm intrigued. Elaborate.

Look, I'm sorry,
but when a guy's really into you...

he's coming upstairs,
meeting or no meeting.

That is ludicrous!
What about extenuating circumstances?

What about you're stressed out,
you're on deadline, you have a migraine?

Or a lot of guys
are afraid of getting their feelings hurt...

and they don't want to ruin a friendship.

Or they're freaked out by their own feelings.

There's a lot of push-pull out there.
A lot of mixed messages.

Yeah, I have to say that's all coat for,
"He's just not that into you."

I'm sorry, but with guys it's very simple.

If we're into you, we're coming upstairs.
We're booking the next date.

There are no mixed messages.

No mixed messages? But...

I've spent my whole life
deciphering mixed messages.

I've made a whole career of it.

Wow. He's just not that into me.

Honey, ignore this person.
He doesn't know what he's talking about.

You're fired.

Look, if he's not into you,
the guy's obviously a weenie, so...

No, I love it.

It is the most liberating thing
I have ever heard.

Think how much time and therapy
I could have saved over the last 20 years...

if I had known this.

I still think the real estate guy is gonna call.

I think you've got an uncomfortable e-mail
coming your way, you know?

Something like, "Sorry I haven't called.

"I'm in a place in the world
where they don't have phones."

I love him.

The best part of a night out
with your friends...

is talking about them all the way home.

Charlotte is a trip, Samantha's hilarious.
They all are.

- They thought you were hilarious.
- How do you not love Miranda?

I know. I love her.
And I love that you loved her.

God, she loved you. They all did.

And they're a tough crowd.

- I'm a tough crowd.
- Okay, your choice:

Fudgesicle or Nutty Buddy?

Oh, my God! I wanted this one.
We're perfect!

When you went to the men's room,
they were...

- Stop.
- What, am I talking too much?

No, I wanna say something and I don't want
you to say anything back, okay?

You promise?

I love you.

I love you, too. And I'm not saying it
because you said it to me. I promise.

I was gonna say it before.
I've been thinking it the whole night.

I love you.
I just wanted to say it again on my own.

In my euphoric state...

I knew there was only one kind of person
who could tolerate me.

I'm in love, too! I'm so happy for you.

It's the fastest I've ever said, "I love you,"
but I could not hold it in my mouth.

And why should you? There's no reason.
You're in love.

- I'm in love.
- I love Harry so much, it hurts.

Sometimes I look at Berger,
and he's so cute...

I just wanna squeeze his face off!

This Friday night
is my first official Shabbos.

So I am cooking a big, traditional dinner
for Harry.

- I'm so excited to finally be a real Jew.
- Here's your brisket, lady.

Listen, I said lean.

Just when I thought
my week couldn't get any better...

I came home to find
a little surprise from Berger.

From Berger's book to Samantha's books.

I'm sorry, Ms. Jones...

but you owe the U.S. Government $300,000
in back taxes.

But, Auditor Smith,
I don't have that kind of money.

What are you going to do,
take the shirt off my back?

Take the shirt off my back.

Now this is what I call internal revenue.

In my fantasy,
Hurricane Pandora would be brilliant.

In reality...

it was.

If you're still not finished,
it's all over between us.

I just finished it, just this minute. I swear.

Did you stop for meals?

It's been two days. It's 400 pages.

- Well, I can't date a slow reader.
- Are you done?

The question is, are you done?

Yes, I'm done,
and if you would shut your trap...

I could tell you...

that I love, love, loved it.

I loved it!

Except for one huge problem.

You have your leading lady
running all over town wearing a scrunchy.

The hair thing? What's wrong with that?

Nothing, unless you're writing about
women in Manhattan.

In which case, where do I begin?

What are you talking about?
Many New York women wear scrunchies.

In the bathroom maybe,
when they're washing their faces.

You're full of shit.

I've seen women every single day
all over New York City wearing scrunchies.

But here's the thing. Here's my crucial point.

No woman who works at W magazine
and lives on Perry Street...

would be caught dead
at a hip, downtown restaurant...

wearing a scrunchy.

Man, it's a good thing I came along...

because you may know the fellows,
but I know the ladies.


Okay, can I read you my favorite part?

No, I'm done talking about the book.

Are we ordering in?

He completely shut down. Why?

Why did I have to get up on my sassy horse
and ruin everything?

Yeah, sass will bite you on the ass.

And the thing that kills me
is I love the book.

I could have gushed about it all night.

Why did I have to go straight to the negative
and just pick at it?

Because you're in a relationship.

I used to pick at Steve about everything:
The way he held his fork, his grammar...

- his dirty fingernails.
- Used to?

He has a new girlfriend for that now. Debbie.

- Do you think Debbie picks at Steve?
- Of course.

All women pick. It's in our DNA.
It's our little way of showing that we care.

I think I made it abundantly clear
just how much I care.

You have to work it out with him.
Berger has single-handedly changed my life.

I still haven't heard from the real estate guy,
but it's fine. He's just not that into me.

I think, right now,
Berger's just not that into me.

So talk to him about it.

You two seem like
you could laugh your way through anything.

Yeah, it's that kind of thinking
that got me into this in the first place.

One of the signs
that a female gorilla is in love...

is that she can be seen
picking nits off her male companion.

And yet, in humans, nit-picking can ruin
a perfectly good evening...

not to mention a relationship.

Women are known to be
more verbal than men.

But when does criticism that's constructive
become destructive?

Are there times when the ladies
should just shut the fuck up?

The next morning,
another woman was making too much noise.

What on earth is all that banging?

Good morning, Mrs. Collier. I'm a Jew now.
How are you?

I know he'll call eventually.

He's just going through
a really hard time right now.

His boss got laid off.

Later, on her lunch hour,
Miranda checked her Blackberry.

There it was.

The uncomfortable e-mail
Berger had predicted.

Then, when they get busy, it's like,
"I can't call. I'm so stressed."

But he's gonna call.

- And his kitchen's being rewired.
- It's all so complicated.

- That's a two-day process.
- At least.

Excuse me, I couldn't help
but overhear your conversation...

and I hope what I'm gonna say
will save you a lot of time and energy.

He's just not that into you.

So move on.

Have a great day.

Having passed on the gospel
to these New York women...

Miranda could only hope
they would spread the word far and wide.

- Bitch.
- Who the hell asked her?

Not me.

- I know you didn't.
- Crazy people in New York.

- He is so gonna call you.
- I know.

And as two women's fantasies
were being shattered...

another's were being brought to life.

Detective Smith, Department of Homicide.

I'm afraid I'm gonna have to
ask you some questions, ma'am.

Why, certainly, Detective.
Am I in some kind of trouble?

- Two martinis, please, straight up.
- Yes, ma'am.

- Actually, make mine a seltzer.
- Of course, you're working.

But, you know, Detective...

one little drink won't kill you.

- He'll have a martini.
- No, it's a seltzer.

Seriously, Samantha, I'm in AA.

That sobered Samantha right up.

Totally fucked up for eight years
in Seattle...

You know, I just realized. I have
a presentation first thing in the morning.

So, sorry.

Jerry had taken the fantasy
into dangerous territory.


- Two martinis.
- No, dude, I said a seltzer.

Meanwhile, Charlotte was hard at work
on her fantasy role.'

Martha Jewart.

The kugel's in the oven,
the matzo balls are boiling.

It's three hours till Shabbos.
We should start braiding the challah.

Doesn't Shabbos mean "day of rest,"
i.e. Ordering in?

We're wearing aprons. Do you own aprons?

- The challah!
- Okay, you don't have to holler.

Miranda, like this.

I don't know what I'm doing.
Why did you call me over here?

Because I didn't want to spend the entire
week saying, "Guess you had to be there."

Did Harry's friend ever call you?

Yes. As a matter of fact,
I'm seeing him tonight.

You think I can get away with this outfit?

Definitely, the apron softens you.

Can you read me what's next,
after it's braided?

With her high school boyfriend,
Charlotte doodled.

With Harry, she Jew-dled.

I think it calls for...

two cups of Mrs. Harry York-Goldenblatt.

Did I miss something?
Did you get married while I was at work?

No, but that's where we're headed.

You forgot Charlotte Yorkenblatt.

Actually, I've been making some calls...

and I was wondering
how you both felt about November.

November? For what?

For our wedding.

Most of the synagogues are booked
through the fall.

- November works for me.
- Has Harry even proposed yet?

No, but he will.

Aren't you counting your matzo balls
before they rise?

Miranda, zip the lip.

We have an understanding about our future.

We don't have to talk about it all the time.
It's b'shert.

- I don't know what that means.
- It's meant to be.

I would never have gone through
all this trouble...

if I didn't know for sure
that we were getting married.

I'm sorry, I just don't want to see you
get hurt again.

And ever since her reality check with Jerry...

Samantha had no interest
in seeing him again.

However, when a certain
government official called...

she was more than happy to take a meeting.

Secret Service Agent Smith, if you're here...

who's protecting the President?

You know, I changed my mind.

I thought of something even hotter
for us to play.

Hotter than Secret Service sluts?

I'm me, you're you.


You know, when I told you the other night
I was in AA, you bolted.

What's up with that?

It is Jerry, isn't it?

I'm afraid we want different things.

You want to tell me all about you...

and I don't want you to tell me
all about you.

It spoils the fantasy.

- That's harsh.
- Yeah, I am harsh.

I'm also demanding, stubborn,
self-sufficient, and always right.

In bed, at the office, and everywhere else.

- I already knew that.
- And that's just a little bit about me.

All right, cool.

Let me tell you one little thing about me.

- See, this is exactly...
- At least let me tell you my last name.

It's Jerrod.

Your parents named you Jerry Jerrod?

- No wonder you drank.
- Right.

There would still be accountants
and undercover agents in their future.

But that night, Samantha and Jerry
got off on playing themselves.

Meanwhile, I was looking forward
to putting the scrunchy moment behind us.

Unfortunately, it was staring us in the face.

Okay, I'm sorry to have to do this...

but I do believe
we are in the presence of a scrunchy.

I also do believe,
and correct me if I'm wrong...

that we are in New York City proper.

This woman does not appear to be
washing her face.

She appears to be standing in line
at a hip, downtown restaurant.

So it kind of kills
your New York woman theory.

Tough break, Bradshaw.

- She's not from New York.
- What?

Doesn't matter. Did they say how long
the wait was gonna be?

Excuse me. Hi, I'm sorry to bother you.

We're just wondering
what part of New York you live in.


I am from Macon, Georgia.

But thanks, you made my whole day.

Honey, did you hear that?
These people think I live in New York.

I'm so hungry.
When are they gonna let us sit down?

Downtown, over curried lamb and chutney...

Miranda found herself pleasantly
surprised by Charlotte's matchmaking skills.

That was one spicy biryani!

I know, I've lost all feeling in my tongue.

Listen, I know a great place
around the corner if you wanna get coffee.

I wish I could,
but I really should call it a night.

It's fine, I understand.

You're just not that into me, and it's okay.
I get it.

No, I like you.

I just really have to go.

- Paul, come on, you can stop lying.
- I am not lying.

Come on, be a man. Tell the truth.

I have diarrhea.

Apparently there is one rare exception
to Berger's rule...

and it often involves curry.

After dinner, Berger ate banana cream pie
and I ate my words.

Another thing I loved...

was the way you used
the sister's phone calls as little landposts.

I mean, landmarks...

or mileposts.

Anyway I just loved
how those sort of punctuated the story.

It was just a really nice touch.

Oh, my God, the introduction... Brilliant!

You're instantly on this guy's side,
even though he's a complete mess.

You know, you really just nailed him.

While I was working overtime...

Charlotte's work
was finally coming to an end.

Harry, you can come on in now.
Sorry it's so late.

What's all this?

Since it's our first Shabbos together,
I wanted to make it a little special.

A little? This is phenomenal.

I just need to get the candles
and then we can say the bracha.

Come on.

Honey, please turn that off.
We're about to eat.

It smells incredible.

And you made brisket.
I cannot believe you made brisket.

- Good Shabbos.
- Good Shabbos, sweetie.

I cannot believe you made all this.

- What did I do to deserve you?
- I feel the same way.

I've been thinking about blessings...

and you are such a blessing to me.

What are you...

- Why is the TV on?
- It's on mute.

Mute? We're having Shabbos dinner.

It's a big game, honey.

Turn it off.
I want you to turn it off right this minute.

- But it's...
- Off now.

Let me just watch this one pitch.

I gave up Christ for you
and you can't give up the Mets?

It's gonna be a long life if you keep that up.

"I gave up Christ for you, take out the trash.

"I gave up Christ for you,
pick up your socks."

Do you have any idea how hard I worked
to prepare this meal for you?

I went to Zabar's every day this week...

I had to make 30 matzo balls...

just to get four
that were the right size and shape.

Not to mention the months
of studying and cramming like a maniac...

to convert to Judaism.
And what have you done for me?

Set the date.

What are you talking about?

You said you couldn't marry me
unless I was Jewish...

and now I'm Jewish. Set the date!

You're acting crazy! Do you hear yourself?

Do you know how lucky you are to have me?

Do you know how we look?

Do you know what people out there think
when they see us together? Do you?

Yeah, I know what people are thinking.

I just didn't think you were one of them.

Finally it was Charlotte who was on mute.

I don't need this.

I'm leaving.

To think I bought a ring.

The Mets won that night, 5 to 4.

But Charlotte lost
everything that mattered to her.

I just remembered another hilarious part.

And later,
on the corner of 73rd and mea culpa...

You know the scene
where the dishwasher guy...

is spooning up the Rice Chex
and he's putting them back in the box?

It's perfection.
How did you come up with that?

- It's so lame.
- No, it was not. It was hysterical.

I'm not talking about the book. I'm talking
about what you're doing right now.

I just wanted you to know
how much I loved your book...

because I did.

And I'm sorry I muddied it up
with the whole scrunchy thing.

It's not that big a deal.

I think I'm gonna call it a night.

I gotta get an early start tomorrow.

- Are you kidding?
- No. Thanks for dinner.

I'll call you tomorrow.

And then there are times...

when a New York woman
should not shut the fuck up.

You can't just pull that line on me
and walk away.

This time it's true.

You're obviously still pissed,
and I'm sorry...

but you can't just shut down like this.

We have to be able to say
what's on our minds.

If you thought
that I had made some kind of mistake...

I would want you to tell me.

Nice hat.

It's fabulous,
and you said that to hurt my feelings.

- That's how you made me feel that night.
- Fabulous.

- So, you could just walk away now?
- Yes, I can.

I'm sorry, all right?

What was I supposed to do
with that scrunchy comment?

Was I supposed to hop in my time machine
and fix my entire book?

I don't know what your problem is,
but it has nothing to do with a scrunchy.

Yeah, it's about the fact
that my book is a big, fat, fucking failure.

- Wait. What?
- It's just, I already feel like shit.

You trying to pump me up all night,
not helping.

I'm sure this is all very sexy.
You probably never really...


I want to say something
and I want you to listen.

You're a beautiful writer...

and I loved your book.

And I love you.

And I still think...

you're very sexy.

And I'm not gonna let you
make a joke right now.

Then I got nothing.

Come on.

Saying "I love you" is easy.

What comes next is a little scrunchier.

Harry hadn't called in two days...

except to say he was sending someone over
to pick up his TV.

Just what New York needs.'
Another single Jewish girl.

Good morning.

- Mind if I get in there and wash my face?
- Not at all.

Oh, my God, where did you get that?

Macon, Georgia. Why, you wanna try it on?

You're gonna look so pretty
with this scrunchy on.

No, I hate you!

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