Lights up on a Manhattan storefront with Korean writing on the awning. It's night. Carrie VOs that dating someone new can seem foreign, particularly when they themselves are foreign. And, one minute in, I roll my eyes. It took only one sentence, people. Apparently, Aleksandr has been taking Carrie on exotic culinary trips, and tonight, it's Koreatown, Midtown, NYC, New York, North America, the planet Earth. They kiss in the middle of the street and are almost struck by a passing car. Don't get your hopes up, I said "almost." And to finish that thought, dang.
Carrie flounces out of her front door and poses for Alek, who waits on the sidewalk, to either take her all in or try and get a peek up her skirt. He says, "Wow. You look..." Please take note of the fact that he TRAILED OFF and did not finish his sentence. She says anyway, "Thank you!" Um, he forgot to describe how you look, Carrie. Shut up. She's wearing a multiple strand of pearls, a red drapey corset-y-looking top, a black jacket, and a long, white, multi-tiered ruffled skirt with white ankle boots. Okay, the skirt? So wrong. Potato chips have ruffles. That's okay. A skirt with ruffles? Not okay. It's like Johnny Depp took peyote, and in his hallucinations got in a knife fight with Seinfeld around the time of the pirate shirt episode, then they suddenly started making out, and from their union an unholy skirt was given unto Carrie. And now for the boots: I'm sorry, when I ponder the boots, I start to feel a little sad. I mean, I'm getting upset here. The boots themselves are not bad things. They could be fine. They just got mixed up with a really bad skirt, and you just know that the two of them together, i.e. boots and skirt, are only going to get into trouble. That skirt will make those boots stay up all night doing blow, and then a few weeks later, after they've bonded, Skirt will pull out a bag of meth and be all, "C'mon, wanna try it? I've got some o.j. in the fridge, we can do it just like David Silver did on 90210! It'll be kicky, Boots! Ha ha, get it? 'Kicky'? 'Boots'? Oh, come on, Boots, don't be such a pussy! It's just a little meth! Now where's my mortar and pestle. Oh' Boots, could you crush this for me? Into a fine powder, please. Thank you, Boots. Now roll up this bill." So I really hope the boots come to their senses and just stay the hell away from that skirt in future. Boots? Do what you're made to do and WALK.
Carrie embraces Alek and asks where they're going to tonight. Somewhere where the women have opinions, I hope! He says, "berry, berry, exotic place." Is it a box of Berry Berry Kix? You don't come across those every day. Carrie says, "Just so you know, I'm fully vaccinated." Oh, don't mind me, I'm just looking at the ceiling. Not rolling my eyes at all. So, should they grab a cab? Alek says they can walk there. In fact, Carrie should turn around. Then he nimbly flits up the stoop with two bags of groceries. Ha! He fooled her but good. They're staying the hell in. Welcome to relationships; after a while, dating means sitting next to each other, inside. ["Alex, how many times do I have to tell you -- don't sugarcoat it for these nice people. Hee." -- Sars]
Carrie cleans her plate and beams. Mmm. Alek can cook. He says wryly that he never made risotto in a frying pan before. She apologizes and says she "never use[s] the kitchen." And still, she has a frying pan. For beaning burglars, I reckon, or maybe to toss at felines caterwauling out on the fence, backlit by a perfectly round moon. No, people toss old boots at those. Boots, you have an escape plan! Go for it, Boots! So what, I wonder, would a person who claims to "never use" a kitchen be doing with a frying pan? Oh, right: to reheat coffee. Alek pulls himself off the floor and shakes his leg out. His "foot sleeps." Now, for espresso. Carrie doesn't have an espresso machine, either. Maybe a "Mister Coffee one-pot." Oh, wow. A writer without a coffeemaker? Come ON. Well, Carrie does suck. So, they go into the kitchen, and a rather large mouse moves languidly across the kitchen counter. Carrie screams like she's in a horror movie. It's waaay over the top, and I'm a mouse-screamer too. But then again, I screamed when I saw Brody Dalle from the Distillers and Kevin Hawkins from the Darkness sharing the cover of February Spin magazine together. Well, I didn't exactly scream. More like a loud gasp. Because I was thrilled. Alek grabs the frying pan and smashes the mouse with it. Oh, gross! And at the same time, nice reflexes, dude. No, it's totally disgusting. He killed vermin with a cooking utensil. But he killed it super-fast. Wow, I'm so on the fence. Okay, I can come to a conclusion. It's loathsome, but I'd still want him around to do that if needed. Carrie, on the other hand, is looking like she wants a frying pan to descend from the heavens and eradicate Alek from the planet. She suggests the mouse was just passing through to get to the nicer apartment next door. Alek is all, "Talk about denial. Where there's one, there's more." He's right. Carrie says yeah, they're going out.