Sex and the City Re-Watch Recap: Where There’s Smoke


And now it’s time for one of my favorite seasons of SATC, and a great premiere episode to boot.

We see the girls in a ferry, pondering their single-ness despite the overwhelming number of single men. This time they are going to Staten Island for Carrie to judge a hot fireman contest. I’m not from New York, but meeting men from this island must be a shady prospect.

While Samantha is in testosterone heaven, Carrie is getting hit up by another judge, a politician named Bill Kelley. Doesn’t she recognize him as that sketchy politician from Desperate Housewives, or that corrupt ad man from Mad Men. Jeez, Carrie, you really need to get out more.

Miranda has retrieved drinks, a local version of a Long Island Iced Tea. They’re so potent Miranda thinks that they may get her drunk enough to let Samantha have sex with her.

Samantha already has her sight set on sleeping with a sexy fireman, and Charlotte can’t even because she’s just a goody good who wants to get married.

I must say that the fireman that seems to transfix them is not very cute. I wouldn’t show him my lower anything.

After a quick scene of a pre-Beyonce single ladies dance moves, Samantha makes her move on Ricky. He’s not too bright. Samantha has to practically move herself to climax to give him the idea that he could join her. Really, Samantha, is it worth that kind of special needs service?

Samantha and Bill share a cigarette break. He’s definitely interested, but she’s not sure she’s going to have it, despite her flirtatious come backs. She winds up giving her address to him so he can “check her district”. However, she stops short at giving her phone number. Because she has limits?

Carrie and Miranda look for Charlotte, and Samantha has departed with Ricky for some remedial level love making. Charlotte is now absolutely drunk. She’s dancing solo to “Doctor’s Orders” by Carol Douglas in one of my favorite scenes in the show ever.

On the boat home, Carrie and Miranda try to contain the intoxicated ramblings of a marriage-obsessed Charlotte.

Meanwhile, Samantha is getting it on. What’s new…

The next morning she can’t even shut up about it. Like a gay man, she thinks that cock talk is appropriate for breakfast conversation. It’s funny to see the girls hungover and barely functioning. Charlotte goes on again about wanting to be saved by her white knight.

Thus is Carrie’s theme for the week formulated; do women just want to be rescued?

Miranda is at her eye doctor’s office getting some orders of her own. She’s having eye surgery, but is told she will need someone to help her. Resistant to needing a white knight, she even evades Steve’s offers to help, just like she evades putting a label on their resurrected sex life.

Charlotte and Carrie are out together in some lounge so Charlotte can find a husband. Is that really where you’d like to go, honey, considering that some skeez bag named Jay Jay keeps accosting you? It doesn’t matter since some tall, blond, and strangely aggressive white knight comes in to save Charlotte from her plight. Maybe you can meet men in bars…

The next day Carrie goes shopping. Upon her return home, she finds Bill waiting for her. Creep. Does actor John Slattery actually act, or is he really like this, considering all his characters are the same? Oh well, he pressures Carrie into a date.

Now we see shitty Carrie make a return when she ditches helping Miranda on the day of her surgery to get ready for this date. Miranda takes it in stride, and attempts to handle it all on her own, ever the independent woman.

Charlotte is on her first date with the white knight. Just as they bond over ideal marriages, he gets huffy over some guy bumping Charlotte’s chair. This leads to him assaulting the guy and threatening a waitress. See? You can’t meet men in bars, Charlotte.

Miranda is drugged up, and incapable yet she still has the willpower to resist Steve’s assistance, but he overcomes this and manages to get this disgruntled sleeping beauty to bed. When she awakens, she sees clearly that Steve is right next to her, and perhaps is worth more consideration than to be merely an ex that she sleeps with.

Across town, Samantha eagerly anticipates hanging out with Ricky at the fire station. The reality no where nearly matches her fantasy. Instead of the place being full of hot, model-like life savers, it’s full of regular guys who watch sports and eat life savers.

Samantha, however, is determined to get something fantastic out of this dreary reality and make a hot scene of her own. After she gets a bowl of that fresh chili that Ricky put on. Talk about hot stuff…

Carrie, still paralyzed by the trauma that is a second break up with Mr. Big. Bill leaves of after patiently waiting, and Carrie calls Miranda for some emergency assistance. Miranda and her newfound clarity inform Carrie that she afraid to get hurt again, which is what Carrie’s been afraid to admit to herself.

So off she runs to the party to meet Bill, where she admits that she did have a bad break up, and wants to take things slowly.

Back at the fire station, Samantha slides down the fire house pole, just the first pole she’ll ride that evening. After having sex against the fire engine, Ricky shows Samantha around the place, and begins to explain why all the uniforms are set up on the floor. Just as he is about to verbally explain the vigilance a fire fighter must maintain, the alarm goes off, and so he shows it in action instead.

He swiftly runs off, abandoning Samantha to get yelled at by another fire fighter whose gear she was sexily trying on. In true Samantha fashion, she attempts to act modestly despite the obviousness of her sexual escapades that evening. When all is said and done, her fantasy ends with her being left nearly naked and vulnerable, in class such of an older couple on the street that prudent hasn’t had sex since the Reagan administration.

While Carrie is getting ready to leave and catch her fairy, I mean ferry (the fairy tale allusions in this episode are over the top), she begins to make out with her politician prince. So much for moving slowly.

Unfortunately, moving quickly now still doesn’t get her to the ferry in time. Like Cinderella before her, she loses a shoe as the clock strikes midnight, but unlike Prince Charming, Bill is there in moments with his BMW. After he saves her, Carrie saves him with some driving directions. There ends the tale, that opens Season 3.


10 Years Without Sex… and the City.

I was going over some notes last night in preparation for this post. I wanted to double check dates and details and such, so I went to a Panera Bread where I could have a bite to eat and use their wi-fi. ¬†While I was there, I noticed a group of young people, no older than their teens or early twenties. It was two girls and a gay friend. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but every so often a stray word was audible and I got the idea that they were discussing being young, single, relationships, being a girl, being gay, all that jazz. It was conversation that was so reminiscent of the diner talk from Sex and the City.

Ten years ago, today, the series finale of Sex and the City aired, “An American Girl in Paris, Part Deux”. I remember on the Today Show that morning hearing Anne Curry discussing her plans to invite her friends over, have a few cosmopolitans, and say goodbye to the girls.

So what has the ten years since been like since our affair with NYC and those characters ended? Well, we did get two films out of the franchise, and lackluster ones at that. We also have had several TV shows take off since then. Like ships in the night Sex and the City passed by another female dominated series that rode on the coat tails of what HBO established, Desperate Housewives. It brought to network television an ensemble that almost rivaled Carrie and the gals in terms of personality.

We’ve even gotten a couple of spin offs, like Lipstick Jungle and The Carrie Diaries, the latter of which has achieved a modicum of success. So what effect has Sex and the City’s absence had?

Many people speak fondly of their time with Sex and the City, like it was a phase they were glad to have, but gladly passed through. Others hold to the show’s legacy tightly as if fearing that mere memory of the series with tarnish its spectacle. Regardless, the show is still relevant today in syndication, even if it’s not as shocking as it used to be, aside from the nudity. The current generation is growing up with mothers, older sisters, and even brothers who watched the show over the past decade. The show isn’t cutting edge in its cultural relevance, but there is a strong undercurrent that the it drives.

Everyone remembers Sex and the City. Everyone remembers the spoofs. Now young girls and, as Samantha put it, sexually confused boys everywhere couldn’t imagine a Friday night would be complete without gossip and complaining about what it is like to date or be single in whatever city, town, or metropolis they live in. Ten years ago I was just a teenager, closeted, sexually inexperienced, but I still could understand the sense of life and excitement that Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha had.

Whether it’s your next fling, your next boyfriend or husband, your next best friend, or your next pair of Jimmy Choo shoes, ¬†there’s always something new around the corner if you go out and find it like they did. Maybe in the next ten years we will get another show that pushes limits, introduces us to larger than life characters, and takes on unforgettable adventures. Until then I still have my DVDs.

Until they wear out.

And please pardon me for not doing the series justice and reviewing or recapping the finale on it’s decade anniversary, but I am in the process of doing an episode by episode recap that is currently part way through season 2. I may poke fun, I may criticize some of the choices and characters, but I will always enjoy my viewings of Sex and the City, no matter what Carrie wears or who Samantha screws.