Sex and the City - Sixth Season

When you live in the city that never sleeps,

it comes as a bit of a shock when somehow,

you manage to oversleep.

Oh. Oh. Taxi! Taxi!

Oh, excuse me.

Oh, Oh, oh, I'm sorry.

Oh, taxi!

Thank you!

Shit!

Sir. Sir, I have to be downtown in 30 minutes.

Thank you.

Keep the change.

Need a lift?

Excuse me, Hi. Which way to the Stock Exchange?

-There. -Thank you.

Oh, excuse me.

- Step forward. -Okay.

Stop. Give him the bag.

Oh, here, can you hold that?

Let's go. Stop. Arms.

I'm sorry. Oh.

Oh, sir? Sir, can you hurry? I'm here to ring the bell.

-Go right ahead. -Thank you.

Step forward.

All right, you have to put this on. And we gotta hurry up.

Wow.

Today, one of New York's favorite newspapers,

the New York Star is going public.

And here at open trading, is one of its favorite columnists, Carrie Bradshaw.

-Now you can press it. -Okay.

The day after the stock market,

I met the ladies for lunch in the fashionable meat market.

It was so exciting. It almost made me invest in something.

I love the stock market.

A room full of screaming sweaty men, all trying to get it up.

I don't invest anymore. It's too volatile.

Exactly. I want my money right where I can see it. Hanging in my closet.

Actually, your stock is up.

I bought some shares of your newspaper yesterday.

Really? Well, thank you sweetie, was it expensive?

-Oh, no you're cheap. -Well, I never.

- Ladies. -Thank you.

Thank you.

Twenty dollars for a hamburger. Oh, that's reasonable.

Pathetic. When I moved to this neighborhood,

the only thing that cost $20

-was a hand job from a tranny. -Ew.

I'm serious. It's all gotten so sanitary.

I mean no smoking in bars. What's next? No fucking in bars?

Well, first there would have to be a no fucking section.

I mean, just look at this street. Stella McCartney, Alexander McQueen.

The only designer name that belongs in the meat packing district,

is Oscar Mayer.

I never liked his clothes. Too fatty.

But that's what great about New York. There's always a new neighborhood,

a new restaurant.

-A new man. -Oh.

That's right. Friday night, my first official date with Jack Berger.

That is so exciting. Isn't that exciting?

Oh, sure. It's all fun and games till someone has a child.

So, what do you two have planned?

Well, he hasn't said yet,

so many, many outfits need to be scouted.

Oh, you kids today and your dating.

I know. I feel like a girl of 35 again.

Oh.

Oh, I really like him.

Then you better find out his bottom line right up front.

If Harry had told me that he could only be serious about me if I were Jewish,

I doubt I'd be in my situation.

I don't get it. What kind of man passes up pussy for Purim?

Soup and a tenderloin of pork.

What's with the face?

-I didn't make a face. -I said pork, you went...

It's just I'm confused.

I mean you can order pork

but you can't get serious about a future with me because I'm not Jewish.

And from the meat market, to the marriage market.

Charlotte, it doesn't work that way. I'm not kosher, I'm conservative.

I'm conservative too.

Yeah, well, my conservative doesn't have anything to do with wearing pearls.

Look, I know what you're thinking. Okay?

Why did I let things get this far without talking about this?

Why did I sleep with you? Why did I even kiss you?

-Why did you? -Because I couldn't not kiss you.

Not sleep with you. Not see you.

Believe me, I never thought a shiksa goddess like you

would fall for a putz like me.

You're not a putz.

Do you even know what putz means?

Yes. Shmuck.

Sure you're not Jewish?

Okay.

And from Jewish to Poo-ish.

Um... Miranda. You got a little dootie on your forehead.

What? Where?

Oh, now you got more. The other side.

Which side? How's it-- Well, help!

-It's not funny! Baby wipe me. - Okay.

-"Baby wipe me". -Get it off! I did not say it like that.

Just get it off!

-"Baby wipe me". -Oh, yeah?

-Let's see how you like it. You like it? -No, no.

-You want it on your face? -No, Miranda, Miranda, no.

-Mister, mister, on your face. -Knock it off!

Knock it off!

Brady, help! Tell Mommy to stop chasing Daddy.

What?

I just don't think it's so fucking funny.

You weren't the one with shit on your face.

You were chasing me.

You know, I don't have time for this. I have to get up early.

I don't even know why you're still here. You dropped off the baby hours ago.

I don't have time to stand around while you read the paper and order food in.

Don't you have a life?

Yeah, I got a life.

Bye, Brady.

-Hey. -I'm in love with Steve. Hold this.

Oh, my God, I can't believe it.

Come on, are you seriously telling me you didn't know?

Oh, I knew. I just can't believe you admitted it.

I need a drink. What have you got?

It's 11:30 on a Saturday morning.

Did you not hear me just say I was love with Steve?

I think I got an old bottle of Kahlúa somewhere.

Okay. Hold on there, Brady. Mama needs a cocktail.

Last night we were in the dining room

and we were laughing and all of a sudden,

I looked over at him and I realized we belong together.

-Oh, Miranda. -Yeah.

So I picked a huge fight and threw him out of my apartment.

Good thinking. Okay.

These Triskets have been here since the mid '80s.

I so cannot be in love with Steve. Steve's so is not the guy for me.

Oh... Miranda.

You're right. Steve's so is the guy for me.

No, no, I was just asking if Brady can eat crackers yet.

No. How can I have been wrong all these years?

You weren't wrong. It just took you a while to get here.

So, what are you gonna do?

I don't know. I have a lot invested in this relationship.

Plus, we have the baby.

Yeah, plus you said you were in love with him.

Yeah.

So, how are you gonna tell him?

Maybe I should take him somewhere romantic where I can't start a fight?

Oh, my God, Miranda, do you know what this means?

You're asking Steve out on a date.

- Hi, Samantha. -Hi.

- Looking good, Sam. -Hi.

That night as Samantha walked home,

past her friendly neighborhood bar, the Rampole,

she saw something truly upsetting.

Just what we need. Another Wall Street asshole with money.

Hold the door.

Hi. Thanks.

I live here, see? Here are my keys.

Chip Kilkenny. I just moved in.

-Samantha Jones. 3F. -I'm 4F. You live right under me.

That sounds promising. It's quite a car.

I love a nice hummer. Well, good night.

And uptown, in a slightly less obvious maneuver.

Oh, I'm close.

Oh, honey. Is this whole Jewish thing really that big a deal?

No. No. Oh, God.

No. Oh!

The next morning, bright and early.

Good morning.

There's a happy face.

I am a happy face. It's a beautiful morning,

and the sun is shining,

and you changed your mind about the Jewish thing.

Whoa, whoa. What? What Jewish thing? When?

Last night. I asked you if it was really that important to you and you said no.

I did?

Yeah. When we were making love, right before you came.

How could you not remember?

Charlotte, honey. I can't remember my own name right before I come.

Well, that's what you said.

Asking me to renounce Judaism during sex is a clear manipulation.

Oh, blah-blah-blah.

Just don't understand why is it so important to you?

I promised my mother I would marry a Jew.

Your mother?

Charlotte had had her fill of potential

husbands and their demanding mothers.

Harry's stock suddenly began to plummet.

Yeah, right before she died.

And just like that, it was up again.

I'm very sorry your mother's no longer with us,

because if she met me--

She'd would fall in love with you like I did and not care?

-Mm-hm. -No. Jews don't think like that.

Keeping tradition alive was very important to her.

She lost family in the Holocaust.

What?

Well, now I can't say anything because you've brought up the Holocaust.

Hi, it's me. Leave a message.

Hi. It's Jack. Berger. Not Kerouac.

Wanted to clear that up.