Back at the Prada store, Berger tosses back champagne. Carrie walks up in a cute black dress. Berger says he has two things to say. "One, you look damn fine. And two, I'm a little hammered!" Carrie laughs. Me, I'd be drinking too. A few drinks sure help loosen the purse strings. Not that spending was ever a problem for Carrie. The kissy-kissy salesman pops up with a shirt for Berger. Carrie says it's "fabulous," and though Berger admits he doesn't say "fabulous," if he did, he would say it about this very pretty red shirt. Then he looks at the price tag and hollers, "Whoa!" Kissy-Kissy says, "Bat you'll leeve in it forevah!" Berger says he'd have to. "Does it also come with a small studio apartment?" Kissy-Kissy entreats Carrie to "talk him into it," but since this is Berger's first trip to Superexpensiveretailland, adjacent to Ripoffville, three blocks over from Overpricedandnotworthitshire, she's going to "take it slow." Kissy takes the non-sale well, saying only "fine" and not pushing it. Then he asks if Carrie knows any fabulous single girls like herself he could take out. She squinches up her face, wiggles her mouth like Charlie Chaplin as the little tramp, then winks. So fucking precious.
Ding! Cut to lunch with the girlfriends. Char picks sadly at a burger with fries. Carrie tells her to cheer up, since she knows a man for her who works at Prada. Miranda and Samantha perk up. "Ooh!" God, I'd be excited too. Think of the discounts! The parties! The celebrity gossip! I wonder if they ever give damaged merch away. I'd walk around with a beat-up bag or scuffed shoe. Hell, people buy used makeup on eBay. I wonder just how good you have to be to work at Prada. I'm obsessing, I know, but it's just the coolest fashion house, and the vintage-yet-timeless appeal really speaks to me. Too bad I'm not a millionaire. Or even completely gainfully employed at present. Char's response to the idea of a date with Kissy-Kissy? "Is he Jewish?" Everyone at the table plotzes. Well, she's not intending to give up the new religion she converted to to win herself a husband now! That just wouldn't be right, she says! I wonder if there's a Judaic equivalent of getting an annulment. "Hello, Rabbi? I know I went through conversion and all, but you know what? My intentions were, uh, less than honorable? And, um, the guy? I converted for? He left me because I freaked out on him and let him know that all the time I was judging him for being bald and fat and hairy. So, uh, can I get out of this Jewish thing and go back to being a goyim? It really suits me." Char says she's "not a fair-weather Jew!" Sam says that "this Prada item may be off the rack" if she waits to long to get over Harry. Mir says that you can't hurry along the process of getting over someone. That has to happen at its own pace. Carrie looks at her, and Mir says, "I'm just sayin'!" Yeah, say it, chicken. That isn't even hindsight. It's chicken-sight. Char says she doesn't even know what she'd say to someone on a date. That she was married, then divorced, then stepped out with her divorce lawyer, then blew that. Carrie says, "Well, now you went and told the truth!" She suggests drinks Friday night. And she'll wear her new Prada! Sam and Mir clap and cheer, until Sam checks her book. "Shit motherfucker, fuck shit." Mir says, "There's a 'shit motherfucker, fuck shit' situation?" Yeah. Jerry's play. In Brooklyn. Char of course thinks it's "sweet," but Sam disagrees. "It's disgusting how far a woman will go for a good fuck." All the way to Brooklyn? Not that far. Really not that far.