You knew it was only a matter of time. You knew at some point And Just Like That … would make a self-referential joke about Christopher Jackson’s time as Hamilton’s George Washington. They just can’t help themselves! Honestly, the way it played out exceeded my every expectation, because it’s not just some passing joke — Jackson is game enough to don the top half of a George Washington costume, powdered wig included, as Herbert during some historical-based foreplay with LTW. Yes, there is talk about how the British are indeed coming. I do not hate it!
Now, it should be said: It’s not like it’s just some random Tuesday night and LTW and Herbert are getting into their typical sexy George Washington cosplay. Unless maybe they are? Or maybe they should be? More powdered wigs in the bedroom, I say. In truth, Herb has this costume at the ready because, surprise, it’s Halloween! Sure, why not! In summation: It was just the dead of summer, but now it is Halloween for very important reasons, like … getting closer to Herbert’s election, maybe? To get these gals in great fall outerwear, perhaps? To give Brady that savage joke about their house already being scary enough, definitely? And to kick off that entire Charlotte-Harry plotline that calls for dressing up as Elizabeth and Phillip Jennings from The Americans, I guess? Although, my two favorite weirdos could have done that regardless of the date and I would’ve been onboard. Anyway, Halloween means Charlotte and Harry are throwing a costume-party fundraiser for reasons they never really say, and also, who cares. As far as costumes go, aside from the aforementioned York-Goldenblatts as the Jenningses, LTW is dressed to the nines as the Bride of Frankenstein; Nya looks hot as hell as Catwoman; Carrie “dresses up†as Cosmopolitan’s first editor-in-chief, Helen Gurley Brown, which is so boring and also so Carrie; Seema does not get dressed up because how dare you; and Miranda tosses on a red clown nose and says she’s dressed as “the comic disaster that is [her] life,†and you know what? I appreciate the self-awareness.
The best thing to come out of this party, however, is our most single ladies — Seema, Nya, and Carrie — agreeing to go troll for some d at a five-star hotel bar at Seema’s suggestion. It’s a big deal for newly single Nya, who is horny and having trouble meeting men, but also for Carrie, who seems to be ready to take on casual sex again. Even Miranda is a little shocked.
Unfortunately for Carrie, the excursion doesn’t bear any fruit — but both Nya and Seema are successful in meeting someone. Well, at least Nya has what seems like an exceptionally successful one-night stand. Nya feels alive. Seema, on the other hand, goes home with a gin brand ambassador (red flag, maybe?) who seems great, but then after confiding in her that he suffers from erectile dysfunction, whips out a penis pump. Seema’s cool with it, if only for the “B+ sex,†but during their second encounter, when Seema whips out her vibrator to finish off, the gin guy doesn’t approve. Seema kicks that fool to the curb. She deserves better than B+ sex anyway.
The big story line of the episode is, however, thanks to that penis pump. After Seema’s first round with the pump, she obviously calls Carrie the next morning for what is one of the top five greatest parts of a friendship — the “you’ll never believe what happened to me last night†phone call. If you haven’t had it, friends, you’re missing out. Carrie is so shocked by the news that she stops dead in her tracks — which happens to be in the middle of a bike lane. A frantic biker yells at her to move, but she’s so flustered (by the bike and the penis pump; it’s a lot at once!) that he ends up crashing into her. He also ends up being very tall and handsome (hello and welcome, Peter Hermann!). Carrie word vomits all over herself with grief and embarrassment, and the guy is thoroughly annoyed but does take her up on her offer to walk him and his bike over to the closest urgent care, which is apparently an Olsen-twin haunt. Who knew?!
And so, thanks to some patient-intake forms, Carrie gets to know George Campbell. He’s agitated for several reasons, but mostly he just doesn’t have time for a broken wrist because he has a major deadline coming up. He and his business partner, Paul — who FaceTimes George while in the waiting room — have an app they’re desperately trying to sell. The big presentation is in two days! Things are hectic and intense!
Carrie reads the guy all wrong. She assumes that because of the desperation and a little snafu with George’s credit card when trying to pay, George is in a dire situation. A man their age this worried about an app! Riding a bicycle! He must be a poor! She feels bad for him and worries she might’ve ruined his chance to make a living, and wonders if she should just write the guy a check to help him out. She instead lands on bringing him lunch the next day and seeing if she can lend her wrists to help him complete his presentation. Joke’s on Carrie, though: When she gets to his insanely large apartment, she realizes George Campbell is loaded. The guy’s been working in the tech space for years, and this would be the fourth app he and Paul have sold. He is just super into his work and was dealing with a little credit-card fraud recently. He’s also very into Carrie’s functioning wrists. Obviously, they start making out.
Aside from the wrist thing (although the man is on pain meds, so it’s hard to hold it against him), George seems like he has potential, but there’s always something, right? George’s fatal flaw turns out to be the fact that he has a relentless work wife. Goddamn it, Paul! Paul and his disapproving face crash Carrie and George’s make-out party, and then when Carrie and George wind up in the bedroom after their first date and things are going well, Paul’s back on FaceTime — and George answers! And shows Paul that Carrie is in bed next to him! Carrie does her best to hide when George gets up and leaves Paul on the phone next to her, but ends up having to slink away quietly to avoid a truly awkward conversation about how Paul isn’t really a bad guy; this presentation is just so important. If this is a sign of things to come, Carrie isn’t interested. She tells George she’s not looking to be the third in their relationship — well, technically, she yells that at him since she can’t find him in his comically large apartment — and she heads out. While it’s a bummer that this road accident turned romance doesn’t amount to much, at least it’s a signal that Carrie Bradshaw is fully back in the dating world. That’s good for her but even better for us.
Hopefully, she remembers just how hard dating is. If she needs a refresher, she needs to look no further than what’s happening with her pal Miranda. While in family therapy last week, Steve offered to find a new place to live so that Miranda could stay in the house with Brady. Months have passed and Steve still hasn’t found a place, which means Miranda has been sleeping at Che’s mostly and then running back to Brooklyn in the morning to be there for Brady before having to head up to Columbia’s campus for class. She’s exhausted. It doesn’t help that Che is on a completely different schedule than she is. No one is getting any sleep, and not in the good way.
Nya offers a solution: Miranda can use a spare room at her place to crash until Steve moves out. This is now multiple episodes in which Miranda has noted that she feels like she can’t say anything to Steve about, well, anything since the implosion of their family was pretty much entirely her fault, but it feels like that might wind up being a less-than-effective tactic in the long run. Surely, we’re headed for a Miranda and Steve confrontation at some point soon, right? But that’s for a later date. For now, we have to talk about the confrontation between Miranda and Che.
Here’s the thing: No one should ever, EVER be subjected to watching a focus group talk about them and their life and work right in front of them. What a fucking horror show. But that’s exactly what happens when Che, almost cheerfully, agrees to be there in person as the network tests their pilot. It starts out fine — everyone loves Tony Danza — but quickly devolves into a Che pile-on. What hurts the most is when a gender-queer participant speaks up to say basically everything Che was worried about with the way the pilot was going — that it is a performative, “bullshit version of what the nonbinary experience is.†Everyone follows suit with something negative to say about Che. Did that entire scene feel a little meta and pointed at all of us out here in the real world piling on Che? Sure, for, like, two minutes — season-one Che was unbearable, and we all know it. I regret nothing!!
The pilot is DOA. Miranda is furious on Che’s behalf, but there’s nothing she can say to them to make any of this better. Still, she tries. She tries way too hard. Che yells at her to stop, that none of this is helping. They’re scared about their future, and money, and what this means for their career (Sara Ramirez is great here — it’s giving me real Grey’s Anatomy vibes), and they just need some time alone to process it all. Che wants Miranda to give them some space. Miranda seems hurt by the brush-off. These two aren’t on the same page at all — maybe Nya’s spare room has become available at exactly the right time.
This and That
• Rock gets approached to be in a Ralph Lauren campaign, which delights Charlotte — a teen model, have you heard? — to no end. Harry, having been on a tear of The Americans, is a little more suspect of the whole thing. It all leads to Harry showing up at the photo shoot in his Phillip Jennings costume to make sure everything’s on the up-and-up. Charlotte tells him to go home before he embarrasses himself (even more) and winds up losing his title as the fun parent, because that’s what this is really about — the fact that, for once, Charlotte is the fun one instead of him. So, yeah, basically like an episode of The Americans, right?
• Seeing Peter Hermann as a romantic interest brought back all the rage over how dirty they did Charles in the final season of Younger. I thought I had gotten past it. And now I know: I’ll never get past what they did to him. Never!
• The sound of Che Diaz using the term “curry-lingus†will echo in my brain for weeks to come.
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