Aidan gives in, Big dresses down, Steve isn't Mr. Right -- and then there's that awful Billy Joel song, says Jessica Shaw
When did Manhattan men become such wimps?
Since the beginning of ”Sex and the City,” men have been around for various reasons: sex, most obviously. Friendship, occasionally. Pathetic objects of pity? Never. During this week’s episode, I wanted to bitch-slap every guy on my TV set (and that includes Billy Joel, whose ”New York State of Mind” may be one of the most irritating songs ever recorded.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been criticizing Carrie for her treatment of Aidan. Why is she so inconsiderate? Why isn’t she nicer to him? Well, as much as I worship the sensitive, dog-loving, basketball-shooting, understanding guy that Aidan is, I sort of wanted him to get some balls this week. In the middle of a testicle-tugging conversation, he was waaaay too understanding when Carrie took Big’s weepy phone call. And he should have given Carrie the big N-O when she informed him that Big was coming over. Then again, am I just blaming the victim because he happened to be a tighty-whitey wearer?
Not that boxer-friendly Trey was much better. With every week that passes, Trey has less and less to offer as a lover, companion, or husband. I’m not entirely sure what Charlotte sees in him, other than a bank account to pay for fabulous lighting. When he called her ”my Mu Shu,” my dinner almost came up. He could use some of that testosterone left over during the upstate mud fight. In that same way that Steve became much hotter for associating with Aidan, Trey needs some good male bonding with the beer-drinking, crotch-scratching, (gulp) tighty-whitey-wearing set.
And oy, Big! What happened to you? Cigars to cigarettes? Divine designer suits to short-sleeve button-downs? Does heartbreak make you raid the Gap sale rack? At least if Carrie and Aidan don’t work out, she won’t have the self-loathing to go back to a guy who got crushed by an airbrushed In Style cover girl. Much as I loved the ball game-turned-roll in the mud, what Big really needed was a good night out on the town with Samantha. She would have schooled him about the best — and the only — way to get over being jilted.
As for Sam, even though she didn’t get much play this week, I was grateful to see a storyline not involving her lingerie collection. She was dead-on with that whole Richard (i.e., Dick) Wright confrontation, and it was nice to see the hard-as-nails Samantha break down and cry. It’s almost as if Miranda and Samantha have been rubbing off on each other. Going ball shopping? Sympathy sex? The old Miranda would have had 18 anxiety attacks and 45 fits before succumbing to either. Sam’s good influence, no doubt.
Now that the ladies are getting their acts together, it’s time for some real men to hit the scene. Trey could use a personality; Aidan needs a backbone. Much as I love Steve, he’s just not the nebbishy-hot guy for Miranda. And Sam, well, a socially evolved man would be nice. When all that happens, this quartet will really sing. Hopefully not Billy Joel.
Who do you love just the way they are?
See EW.com’s ”Sex and the City” Guide
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