Carrie hops into her car, alone, alone. She holds one white tulip. Her widely smiling chauffeur asks what the party was for. Carrie wrote a book. Just a collection of her...well, yeah, she wrote a book, all by herself. The chauffeur gushes, "That's amaaazing! Congratulaaaations!!" Now usually I never point out an actor's race (it doesn't matter), but this time, I have to, because it's freaking me out. The chauffeur is a black woman, and this character is a little Green Mile-esque. Like, Chris Rock did a bit about the Mystical Black Man in Hollywood movies (also called the Magical Black Man, or MBM for short), and this role really smacks of that. Why, PMK, why? Are there no white woman chauffeurs? Was Morgan Freeman not available? Carrie asks the driver to take her home, and, totally unrealistically, the MBW says no! They "have to celebrate this!" Um, you just met? Is this a move she tries with all her clients? "Ooh, J. Lo! You just got divorced! We have to go out and help you get your swing back! Come on, girl! I mean it! Breathe again!" Or, "Wow, Tom Brokaw! You can-NOT retire now! Absolutely not! We're going out for ice cream -- you'll feel better afterwards!"
Carrie and her driver go to a Gray's Papaya stand together -- not Nathan's, like I said in the recaplet (and thanks to all the sharp-eyed readers who wrote in). The driver gushes, "She wrote a book!" The hot dog guy is all, "Really, it's gonna be in book stores and everything?" No, it's going to be up your butt -- WHERE DO YOU THINK a book would be sold? Criminy. He comps them the hot dogs and says "nice to meet you!" Wow. Carrie VOs, "Who needs a Berger?" Oh, kill me. She strolls by a Coach display ad, sees a found playing card (jack of hearts, don't you know), gets into the limo, and rides away. What a weird chauffeur. Almost...magical.