Outside the Cador Patisser, Carrie lights up. She asks if Alek has any comment about her cancer sticks. No, he doesn't. "Everyone smokes in Paris." And everyone knots their goddamn scarves like they're being graded for originality, too. I learned that Frenchie tidbit from Le Divorce. Alek has a purple one on, and it's swooping crazily. So French. He says Carrie got "good reviews." She's "funny, smart, and chic." Ooh, la freak, so chic. His phone rings. It's the gallery. He has to go. Again, some more. Carrie's all, awww! And wow, she beat up Minnie Mouse and stole her dress. Red with black polka dots. And there's a giant bejeweled bug pinned to her coat. Get it off. Get it off! Carrie says she thought they were going to spend time together. He's all, "Don't make me feel worse." She's not trying to, you jerk. She "didn't say a word when [he] left [her] alone with [his] wife." He makes incredibly annoying childish faces at her, and she giggles and gives in. Wow, Carrie is so fucking spineless. He offers her the car and driver, but she says she'll walk, so he takes it without a word. Before dashing off, he says he likes the smoking. "It's very sexy." He makes a barely perceptible thrust with his hips. Oh, ew. Seeing that makes me want to smoke...crack. Because, like this scene, it is wack. Carrie exhales and yells, "It's killing me." Like Carrie's face.
Hey, Sad Piano. Welcome back. You gonna be here for a while? Take off your coat and have a seat. You just keep tinkling, and I'll recap the action to which you play.
Carrie enters the pastry shop, alone, alone. She sits at a table ands stuffs her face. Then the sound of a dog panting joins the soundtrack. Carrie looks to her right and sees a doggie. Then she gives him some pastry. Pathetic. Go, Sad Piano, go. Sad Cello? Break yourself off a piece. There's enough to go around.
Carrie walks the streets of Paris, alone, alone. She sees a family walking toward her. The dad has his little girl on his shoulders. Carrie beams at them, and then the little girl bops Carrie right on the head. Carrie's mouth makes an "O" at the indignity of it all, and then when she turns around to get a look, the little girl sticks her tongue out at her. Heh. I like that little girl. Carrie walks on, alone, alone, and steps in dog poop. It's true: No one picks up dog poop in Paris. And Carrie wasn't paying attention. Her shoes are caked with poo. Go, Sad Piano, go. Sad Accordion? Get you some.
Go, Sad Piano, go. Carrie rinses off her shoe at a nearby fountain. Some old French dudes walk by and have a laugh at Carrie's expense. Haw haw haw, she stepped in le poop! Yeah, yeah.