All language subtitles for sex and the city s03e11

Yes?

-Room service.

We've got to stop meeting like this.

You've been waiting your whole life
to say that.

I have to be some place in three hours.

Why is your skin so soft?

When Charles Dickens wrote,

"It was the best of times,
it was the worst of times, "

I believe he must have been having
an affair with his married ex-boyfriend.

-Yeah?
- It's me.

You know, you can't just keep
changing the time around like this.

I have a schedule too.

Fine, I'm sorry.

Well, let's get those panties off.

Wait, I have to put my diaphragm in.

-I have to be at work in 40 minutes.
-I know.

Our affair, like our hotels,
had gone from elegant with crystal

to seedy with plastic cups.

Cracker?

God, it's hot in here!

It's hot
and the windows don't even open.

I hate those little
sliding air strip things.

Me, I need air.

You picked the hotel.

I picked it
because it's on 56th and 8th.

Nobody knows us on 56th and 8th.

56th and 8th is safe.

I don't give a fuck who sees us.

Yes, you do. And I do too.
You want people to get hurt?

This room smells like take-out curry.

Hey.

Hey.

It's too hot.
I can't do this, I can't do this.

What, are you saving it
for your boyfriend?

-Carrie...
-No!

You don't talk to me that way!

I'm sorry. I'm...

I'm sorry.

[Carrie] Jesus.

How did we get here?

Who are we?

-Here we go.
- Thanks.

Okay, I have something to tell you,
and you're not gonna like it.

And believe me I would rather
tell anyone but you. But I have to.

-Okay.
-Because I need your help.

Okay.

I'm having an affair with Big.

I swear to God,
I think my heart just stopped.

And also, I'm smoking again.
I'm smoking, and I'm sleeping with Big.

Feel free to delete me
out of your Palm Pilot.

Give me one.

-Really?
-I think I need it.

Oh, you are such a good friend.

Don't inhale.

Do you hate me? Say you don't hate me.

I don't hate you.

Thank you. Now if only I didn't hate me.

-How long has it been going on?
-Forever!

Actual time, three weeks.

I'm in the middle of this
and I can't... I can't see.

So I need you to yank me out of it.

You have to say stuff
to yank me out of it.

-What about Aidan?
-Yes, exactly! What about Aidan?

What about him?

I would die if he found out.

And now Big's acting jealous,

and I'm so afraid that he's gonna
call him or do something stupid.

He's already threatened to tell Natasha.

Well, what did you think would happen?

I didn't think, I just did.

And now I'm terrified
that we've messed it all up

and it can never be
what it was supposed to be.

It's just a big, big mess.

Okay, take it easy, okay?

I'm just so confused.

I mean, does he only want me now
because he can't have me?

Yes.

-How do you really feel?
-Forget about him, what do you want?

I want everyone to get out of this
without anyone getting hurt.

-Well, that's realistic.
-Well, why not?

You've heard those stories about affairs

where people realize
how great their other relationship is

and end it
without anyone being the wiser?

I don't watch
Lifetime television for women.

Carrie, you have to just stop, okay?

Just stop.

I am, I'm stopping.

I am.

Good.

Who else knows about this?

-Samantha. Oh, and God.
-Not Charlotte?

Oh, please, if the World According
to Bride knew I was having an affair,

she'd kill me.

Well, at least you wouldn't
have to be a bridesmaid.

While Miranda was trying
not to judge me on the Upper East Side,

Samantha was judging the crowd at
a new hot spot on the Lower West Side.

It was a typical Downtown male mix.

10% Wall Street, 10% real estate,

10% she'd already slept with.

His name was Tom Reymi.

Excuse me.

A Manhattan legend.

Straight, steadfastly single,
and sexually very active.

In short, the male Samantha.

Hi. I'm Tom Reymi.

-I know who you are, I'm--
-Oh, I know who you are.

It's about time we met.

We know the same people,

we should go to dinner,
blah, blah, blah.

Wanna fuck?

Under a minute,
you could qualify for the Olympics.

[both] My place is--

So...

Do you swing?

Swing?

You mean with other couples?

No.

Swing.

Oh, my! So Cirque du Soleil.

You haven't fucked
till you've fucked in the swing.

I've always wanted to run off
and join the circus.

So, Samantha...

When was your last AIDS test?

Well, so much for foreplay.

Hey, anyone who has as much sex as us
has to ask, right?

I was tested again three weeks ago.

I'm good to go.

How about you?

Samantha didn't quite know
how to tell Tom Reymi

the only sex test she'd ever taken
was the Cosmo quiz.

You have been tested, right?

No, but I'm very healthy.

You haven't been tested? Why?

I'm a busy girl?

You know,

I got hard in that club
just from looking at you.

And I think you and I both know

what's gonna happen
when we get up in that swing.

But, baby,

I can't fuck you
or eat you the way I want

unless I know it's safe.

And, Samantha,

you should do me.

I am as good as they say.

Samantha suddenly
had to figure out

just how much she wanted to do Reymi.

The pink Post-its are for the gowns
I kind of like,

the green Post-its are for the gowns
I kind of really like,

and the yellow Post-its are for
the gowns I don't know if I like. Here.

Kill me, please.

Just take a sharp object
and drag it across my throat.

Stop. Miranda, you take Modern Bride.

Samantha. New York Bride.

And I'll take what, annoying bride?

Here, Carrie. Page 211, pink Post-it,
tell me what you think.

-Okey dokey.
-Ooh! Cute purse.

No purses. There's no time for purses.
This is gown-specific.

What's your theme again, a Nazi wedding?

Carrie, page 211?

Um, it's pretty.
I like the flowers in the back.

Me too.
And I like that old-fashioned satin bow.

Have you all had an AIDS test?

Good morning. Where did that come from?

I just met this very hot guy,

and he won't sleep with me
unless I have a test.

Samantha, we're looking
at wedding gowns.

Could you please not talk about AIDS
right now?

Wait a minute.
You've never had an HIV test?

No. Have you?

Two.

Three.

How do we feel about
opera-length gloves?

Samantha, how can you
not have had an AIDS test?

She doesn't mean that the way it sounds.
It's just...

Well, why not, sweetie?

I always practice safe sex.

All right, I'm terrified.

-What if I have it?
-You don't have it.

Sometimes it takes me a really long time
to get over a cold.

That's not AIDS,
that's central air conditioning.

Just go and get it over with.
The test is nothing.

The worst part
is waiting for the results.

Really. And then
they come out with the results

and they motion to certain people

and they take them into this little room
and you know the news ain't good.

I just sat there
the entire time praying,

"Please don't take me
in that little room."

There are 1,400 gowns in this magazine
and I have only seen 600 of them.

I need help.

Okay, listen.

You need to chill the fuck out
and hire yourself a stylist.

-A stylist?
-Some little minion to run around town

and do your dress bidding.

I can hire someone to do that for me?

Oh, honey, this is New York City,
you can hire someone to do anything.

I'll fax you some names.

Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Now, if I could only hire someone
to take that damn test.

Later that night,
I got to thinking about safe sex.

Odd, how only when
our physical life is at risk

do we follow certain guidelines
to protect ourselves.

But what about our emotional lives?

Wouldn't it be nice if there was
a little pamphlet to warn us

what unsafe behavior might be high-risk
to ourselves or our relationships?

And even if you take all the precautions
and emotionally try to protect yourself,

when you crawl in bed with someone,

is sex ever safe?

Yeah, I know,
but that's not my problem. All right.

[Carrie] The next day,
on her way back to work,

Miranda was about to experience
a different type of high-risk behavior.

Eat me.

Excuse me?

Eat me.

Miranda was furious.

It was bad enough
she had just lost a case,

but now she was being harassed
by a sandwich?

You want pasta, you go to Little Italy.

You want wedding, you go Wang.

You want
the perfect wedding dress fast,

go to Anthony Marantino, stylist.

Where is that salesgirl?

For these prices, we should be pulling
her nose out of our asses.

Hello! Someone! Let's go!

Charlotte was thrilled.

Anthony was like
the pushy Italian mother she never had.

Go, go, go!

Oh, I love them all.

Char...

Duchess satin with the lace appliqué.

I think the white is too white.

No, but with your skin tone--

Hates it! Move on.

The charmeuse strapless
with the net overlay.

Hates it!

Good beadwork, though.

None of these are it.
None of them at all. None of them.

You're dragging!

I hope she doesn't think I'm a bitch.

She's not paid to think,
she's paid to make you happy.

It's just that
I've been imagining my wedding dress

ever since I was a little girl,
and I want it to be just perfect.

Char, not for nothing,
I've done this a million times.

Don't worry.

You'll know the right dress
when you see it.

Anthony.

Char...

That's it.

And across town, Samantha felt
as though she might cry as well.

Have you had an HIV test before?

No.

And why are you taking this test?

I...

feel...

you know, it's, um--

Are you feeling all right?

-I'm sorry, I'm really nervous.
-Try to relax.

There's just
a couple of routine questions,

nothing to be alarmed about.

Okay. Thanks.

Now... Do you have sex?

Yes.

Do you have oral sex? Give? Receive?

Yes, yes, yes.

Do you have anal sex?

Yes.

Do you swallow?

Only when surprised.

Do you use condoms?

Yes.

What kind of condoms?

Trojan, Lifestyles, Sheik, Wet N' Wild--

No, I meant latex, lambskin?

Oh, yes, yes.

How many sexual partners have you had?

I'm counting.

Um, this year?

While Samantha tried
to remember her sexual past,

I came face to face
with my sexual present.

Mmm... Mmm...

Stop.

Stop what?

You're making that sound.

That "mmm-mmm" kissing sound.

It's annoying.

That's a sound I make, I guess.

Come here.
I'll try not to do it anymore.

Look, Ma, no sound.

Mmm...

I can't breathe. I can't breathe!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Hey.

Don't go, don't go.

You know, I just, I don't...
I don't get it.

You used to like that sound I make.

I love that sound.

Where are you going?

I'm going to go home.
I need a little time.

I'm just in a weird place right now,
but I'll be out of it soon, I promise.

I'm sorry.

Say it's okay.

It's okay.

What can I do?

Nothing, it's me, it's all me.

I just need time to figure it out.

Maybe I'll give you a little room
to do that.

You're not saying that
in a bad way, right?

No.

I'll be right downtown.

Hey, buddy.

Call me later?

It's 1:00 in the morning.

I'll call you tomorrow.

Make the noise.

Please make the noise.

Mmm.

Good night, nut.

I'm sorry.

I didn't know what I was doing,

but I was pretty sure I had just entered
high-risk relationship behavior.

Eat me.

Three days later,
Miranda had finally

gotten her fill of the sandwich.

Okay, that's it.

You're not allowed
to harass women like that.

Eat me.

We'll see about that.

Welcome to Blimpie,
how may I help you?

Hi.

I'd like to speak
to the manager, please.

Yeah, that's me.

Okay, then, listen.

That sandwich out front

is saying sexually explicit things
to women as they walk by.

-What'd he say?
-"Eat me."

Yeah, he's a sandwich.

No, he didn't say it
in the sandwich way,

he said it in the sexual harassing way.

Lady, he's a sandwich.

Eat me.

Oh, you're so brave
inside your sandwich!

And then,
Miranda glimpsed just enough

of his full lips and shiny white teeth
to stop thinking about the sandwich

and start wondering
about the man inside the bun.

-I can't stop thinking about him.

You're telling me
you're turned on by a sandwich?

Well, I...

I think it's the fact
that I can't see him.

It's dangerous or something.

I think that is one fresh sandwich.

His voice is so sexy,
but he's probably a troll.

I mean, any man who propositions a woman
from inside a big sandwich

has got to be a troll, right?

I don't know.

You think he's white meat?

Oh, wow.

That's the first laugh I've had
in weeks.

Thank the sandwich for me
when you're having sex with him, huh?

I... I can't have sex with a sandwich.

Can I?

Well, I never thought
I'd have sex with a married ex.

Can a hoagie be that far behind?

Oh, Miranda.

What the hell am I gonna do?

As Samantha sat
and waited for her test results,

she had one thought over and over.

"Please, don't let them
take me into that little room."

Miss Jones, I've got your results.
Please come with me.

Samantha began to realize

she was being taken
into that little room.

She was perfectly healthy.

The nurse just wanted a quiet place
to lecture her on safe sex practices.

Later that week, somehow I found myself
back at the corner of 56th and safe.

How much?

Excuse me?

I see you here before.

For sex. How much?

All right, that's it, I'm out of here.

That Japanese businessman
thinks I'm a hooker.

Wait a minute. Carrie!

Carrie?

Oh my God.
What are you doing in this neighborhood?

Carrie, can we...

Hey.

You know, uh,
I was doing business in the area

and we kind of bumped into each other.

Charlotte, how are you?

I just checked on my wedding dress.
It's at a tailor and, uh--

-Charlotte...
-I better go.

Wait, Charlotte.

Well, that was that,

Now nowhere was safe.

Not even 56th and 8th.

It was a force bigger than me, like...

Niagara Falls or something, you know?

No, I don't know. He's married.

-I know he's married.

That makes you the other woman.
You're the other woman.

I am not the other woman.

I'm not. I mean...

I know I am, but...

I am not that woman.

Please, Charlotte,
I feel bad enough already.

Good, you should feel bad.

Do you ever think about
how she'd feel if she found out?

Yes, I think about it all the time.

No, you don't.

You think about what would happen to you
if she found out.

You don't think about her.

She's just the idiot wife.
You don't know anything about her.

Okay, in a minute, I'm gonna
suffocate myself in this bubble wrap.

This isn't a joke, Carrie.

They took vows. Vows he broke.

I'm getting married in three weeks.

How would you feel
if someone did this to me?

I would kill them.

How could you do this?

I mean, you're my maid of honor.

I'm getting out, I am.

Can I please help you pack now?

So we stood and bubble-wrapped,

the bride-to-be
and her maid of dishonor.

A week of fantasizing hot sex
with the unknown man inside the sandwich

had gotten to Miranda.

Safe or not, she needed to at least see
who it was she was dealing with.

Hi. Look, this is so silly.

Eat me.

Let me see your face.

Even though he was kind of cute
Miranda walked away.

After all,
what did they really have in common?

She was a lawyer and he was a sandwich.

Later that day at Tom Reymi's,
after a week of sheer anxiety,

Samantha enjoyed the benefits
of totally safe sex.

[both moaning]

-Oh, yes.

Ow!

Take your time. Um, you know, shower,

there's stuff in the kitchen
if you're hungry.

It was the lowest of the low.

I had just finished making love
to my married ex-boyfriend

on his lunch hour at his apartment

while his 25-year-old wife
was sunning herself at the Hamptons.

Jesus.

What?

Could I feel any more like a hooker?

Why do you keep doing that to yourself?

Hmm?

I think we should
stop seeing each other.

Why?

You're married.

All right, hand me the phone,
I'm going to call her right now.

-Hand me the phone.
-Don't be ridiculous.

And what are you going to do?
You're going to call her at the beach

and say that you love me
and you want a divorce?

You don't want me to call her

because you're still in love
with that other guy.

This is about that other guy.

The other guy has a name, it's Aidan.

-And you have a wife, Natasha.
-Give me the phone.

And if you really wanted to tell her,
you would have told her by now.

What the fuck?
You told me not to tell her.

Here, call her.

If I make that call,
are you gonna be there for me?

Are we gonna do this, really?

I mean, out in the daylight,
no cocktails, no hotel rooms, real life.

Carrie, in or out?

I need more time.

I'm calling her Monday.

I have to go.

You know how to let yourself out.

I couldn't help but wonder

if I really did know the way
to let myself out.

Charlotte was right.

What did I really know about Natasha?

Natasha is a woman who likes tea roses.

Natasha is a woman
who collects antique sugar bowls.

Honey?

Natasha is a woman
who comes home from the Hamptons early.

Honey, are you here?
I took the Jitney home.

Sweetheart?

-Honey?
-Oh!

Carrie, I see you!

Wait!

I knew you were having an affair,
but not in my house!

Stop. I'm talking to you!

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

I had always assumed the one who would
be hurt in all this would be me.

Taxi!

Near... Nearest hospital.

Is she all right?

She lost a tooth
and needed a stitch in her lip.

They had a plastic surgeon,
and it won't scar.

She's scared and swollen.

Her parents are on the way.

I have to go.

Carrie. Hey.

Thanks for being here.

I'll call you.

For what?

We're so over.

We need a new word for "over."

Carrie.

[Aidan] Surprise.

Where you been all day?

Oh...

I just went to a museum.
I was walking around.

Oh, yeah? How was that?

It was good.

I'm just gonna wash my face,
I'll be right in.

Okay.

Somehow, I had found a way
to let myself out of the mess

and I'd made it home.