Morning. Sam calls Carrie to rub in the fact that she'll be spending the summer in the Hamptons with her new man. Carrie, who was sleeping, asks if it isn't a little early. Sam says all the best summer places get snatched up about now. Carrie meant early in the relationship. Sam says that "WE" are spending the summer in the Hamptons, and by "we" she means herself and Carrie. Good girl.
Mir is getting the high hard one from the ophthalmologist. She smiles up at him nicely, but isn't moaning and groaning. In other words, she's done faking. He pumps away, asking that she "come with" him, but no dice. It ain't happening. Not for all the tea in China. It won't help if you ask more than once, ophthalmologist guy. He finishes, rolls off, and asks if everything is all right. Sure. She just didn't come. Not then, or any of the other times. He asks if she has a "physical problem." Oh, boy. Mir says that a woman's anatomy is more complicated, and does he know how the clitoris works? Or where the clitoris is? Because it's about two inches away from where he thinks it is. But Mir is willing to show him a thing or two.
Carrie visits Char and her actor/handyman/substitute boyfriend. They're going fix-it crazy. And he's not going to Salt Lake City after all. He goes off to get a volt meter, and Char starts babbling about how she got all these feelings for him after he said he was going to leave, and what if he was the one, and oh, he's so masculine and can fix things! Carrie listens, blows a bubble with her gum, and points out that you don't get in a relationship with a guy because he can caulk a tub. Char is all, yeah you do!
Carrie plods home, still hiding under her hat, and stops to buy smokes. She muses a la VO if maybe she's the one faking it, and that being single is really a crock. She takes her smokes and change from the newsstand guy, who looks at her with great, inscrutable eyes. He flicks his glance to the still-present New York magazine, then back to her. Carrie VOs that she sees pity, but I just see a guy dealing with another one of his annoying customers, who happens to be on the cover of a weekly magazine. Carrie decides to go out to perk herself up/get drunk, since it's been a while.
Stanford grabs a tartini off a tray and offers one to Carrie. Cranberry-flavored vodka, you see. She's all, a new drink after four days? No, cranberry vodka is a fucking Sea Breeze. Not new. Well, maybe the "-ini" makes it new. No, just annoying. She sees Stanford's b.f. and says she hates him. Stanford says he hates him too, and he's sorry about the cover. Carrie says that "next week you'll have a coke-dealing slumlord on the cover and [she'll] be history." Seriously. The b.f. screeches, "You are FABULOUS," and splits. Carrie hisses to Stanford that this b.f. will have to be jettisoned, and Stanford says not likely: they just scored a summer share. Carrie is cheesed.