Dinner party. The table is filled with her friends and their life partners. Carrie VOs that at parties like these, the goal can be to make sure your friends are comfortable around your boyfriend. Then Sam, in a black Chicago flappery wig, announces that she thinks her maid is using her vibrator. Everyone laughs, and Smith gets a cute close-up. Char says gently, "I don't think you're supposed to say 'maid' anymore." Carrie thinks saying "vibrator" over dinner is verboten. Sam continues; when she went to the kitchen to get her vibrator, the batteries were dead, and they were new the last time she used it. "Maybe in the Dominican Republic people share vibrators, but this is America! Land of plenty!" Everyone at the table lets out a big old "ooh, that's bad" laugh. Alek drops his gaze and looks distinctly put off. Carrie touches his hand and ducks her head in a "sorry my friends are so crass, honey!" gesture. Way to sell out your friends, man. It's not like they were popping pills or beating their kids. Harry says Sam could have a potential lawsuit on her hands, and Mir drawls, "What, breaking and vibrating?" Stanford, barely pausing between bites, says, "As long as it's not 'entering.'" Hee. Oh, the hee. Alek's face darkens. Jesus, what a pill. Carrie registers his distaste and sighs. Everyone at the table takes a pause, noting Alek's silence. Steve sees the piano and asks if Alek plays. Yes, he does. Does Alek know any Billy Joel? No, he doesn't. Steve rattles off some song titles. "'Uptown Girl'? 'More Than a Woman'?" Marcus finishes with, "'Piano Man'?" Alek. Hasn't. Heard of him. Someone on the boards thought it would be impossible for a Russian to have not heard of Billy Joel, since BJ (heh) toured there extensively, solo and with Elton John. I have to argue that, because if there's someone walking the earth for as long as Alek has, and he's gotten along this long without hearing Billy Joel, I tip my hat to him. I mean, I can't imagine how much happier I would feel without ever hearing Celine Dion. Or without seeing the commercial for her Las Vegas show. On the last TWoP Stonecutters trip to Vegas, Gustave tried to talk me into seeing CD at Caesar's. I told him that, even if it was free, and I got to sit in Justin Timberlake's lap during, then punch her in the face afterwards, I would not. I just can't do that to my ears. Or my soul. I've done enough damage already. Do I need the scars Celine will bring?