The gals' sex lives need some new spice
The gals’ sex lives need some new spice
After years of knowing Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha, we all feel like we’re part of the clan. We look out for them. We defend their bad choices and applaud their good ones. We sympathize over broken hearts and eulogize their dead relationships. We wish we could avenge those who have wronged our sisters in singledom. So why is it — how is it — that I find myself happy that Dick (I mean, Richard) and Samantha have reunited?
I’m not saying the ”I got scared” excuse was valid or acceptable on any level. Miranda put it best when she pointed out that ”a man gets a reward for correctly identifying an emotion,” and she’s right. Frankly, I don’t really care what made him end up in such a compromising position. All I know is he seems genuinely sorry and beyond that, he seems like the only man on this planet who is a perfect match for our beloved Samantha.
For equity’s sake, she should get to sleep with some anonymous hottie so they’re even. Of course, after watching the preview scenes for next week’s episode, I’m not entirely sure Sam and Richard will make it through this short season.
Whether they do or don’t, it’s time for the other three to get their libidos back in action. Carrie’s due for a turbulent relationship (now that she’s a ”spiritual guide,” perhaps she should meet someone at Kabbalah class or something). And after watching the way Charlotte and Carrie’s editor interacted, I’m sort of hoping those two unlikely New Yorkers find a love connection.
Imagine Charlotte with a balding, pot-bellied, Lou Grant-esque newsman. He wouldn’t stand for any of that lipstick-on-the-mirror affirmation mumbo jumbo. He’d be practical, she’d be all head in the clouds. It would be hilarious! That is, until he criticized one of best-friend Carrie’s columns and then everything would fall apart.
As for Miranda, I’d like to see her join some dating group for single parents and have a hilariously disastrous relationship with a self-centered single dad. After viewing the terrifying gene pool from which Steve came (”Imagine Steve. In a wig. Drunk,” Miranda, queen of the one-liner, said), I think Steve’s sexual lure is quite limited.
One thing is for certain: The season is off to the perfect start. The baptism scene gave me goosebumps as Carrie wished to be cleansed by the water dripping down her arm. I loved how Carrie stood up for Charlotte in that wacko self-help group, and I respected Miranda’s fierce loyalty to Carrie in her godmother decision.
Sometimes, watching their intense friendship is so fulfilling, we can all turn off the TV at the end of the 30 minutes and light the proverbial cigarette.