Walking Dumpster Fire

This post contains multiple spoilers about Sex and The City and the reboot And Just Like That. However, you have been living in a personal panic room under a bridge if you didn’t know that Mr. Big died in the first episode of And Just Like That.

If you grew up as a girl in the 90s and haven’t watched Sex and The City at least 8,916 times, then I don’t know what you are actually doing in your life. 

To say I am a fangirl of all things Sex and the City is an understatement. If Darren Star created a show where Carrie Bradshaw sits on the toilet and prattles on for 40 min about cats licking their assholes, I would tune in for every god damn episode. So, of course, I am going to watch his spin-off, And Just Like That. 

Watching the original Sex and the City in my early twenties was eye-opening. No show was doing this. I grew up in the 90s, where the closest tingling I knew of sex came from daytime soap operas. It was always the same: some dude seduces a woman into “making love.” She says no at first, but he persists, and she can’t resist; she drops her arms, and the intense making-out session begins. And that’s what I thought sex was. The guy wants it, the woman resists, and the woman gives in. A bit rapey when you think about it, but hey, it was the 90s. 

But Sex and the City? They basically yelled FUCK THAT NOISE. And I was ALL here for it. It was the first time I saw women owning their sexuality. And it was amazing. First, we want sex? And that’s ok? And we can pursue it?  WHAT?! Totally onboard. (At this time in my life, I am in my late teens and early 20s, so I am not some sex obsessed 12 year-old…well, I was, but that’s a different story for my therapist—good luck, Dr.!)

Yes, there are some very antiquated moments when I re-watch the episodes. The rules Charlotte puts out: if you sleep with a man too soon, he won’t call. How Carrie continues to obsess about Big while he treats her like garbage (wait, is that antiquated? Cause if I had a nickel). Or how, in one episode, they talk about whether bisexuality is a real thing or a “layover to Gaytown.” But this was over 20 years ago. (Jesus Christ, I am old…but so are my friends who are reading this, so let’s party!)

We also watched a love story in Sex and the City unfolding for 6 seasons and two movies. We watch, cringe, cheer, and rage as Big pulls and strings Carrie along. And even though she allows it, she can’t help it. She loves him. The feminist in me loves the scene in the second to last episode, American Girl in Paris, Part Une, when Carrie is about to meet the girls for her last New York dinner, and Mr. Big is waiting for her outside her brownstone in his pristine black car. He mocks her current beau and tells her he made a mistake and that it’s different this time. 

And Carrie GOES OFF. Fuck you, dude; you lost out; you missed the boat. Yet, in the next episode, the tiny non-cynical part of my heart that manufactures feelings can quote verbatim the speech Carrie gives her tiny beau, Aleksandr Petrovsky, in their hotel room: “I am someone who is looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t-live-without-each-other love. And I don’t think that love is here, in this expensive suite, in this lovely hotel, in Paris.” This is one of my favorite scenes in any episode I have watched in any series. Stupid love gets me every time. 

Moments later, we see Big come through the hotel doors, and Carrie starts to cry. They walk across some famous Paris bridge I know nothing about, and Mr. Big says, “Carrie, you’re the one.” Damn you, BIG! You got me!

All this to say is that I knew And Just Like That had some big shoes to fill, and I knew that no amount of pricey Manolo Blahnik’s would correctly fill them. Producing something incredible from nothing twice is hard, if not almost impossible. If Friends (RIP Chandler) decided to reboot, it would be less well done. Same with Seinfeld, or Frasier (oh wait, that already is happening, and we know how that is going), or any of the great shows that changed us, that were different and were magic. 

In the first season of And Just Like That, we watch Carrie navigate life after Bigs dies. I bawled my eyes out when that scene aired. I knew it was coming (thanks, Facebook!), but I still cried ugly tears. Her blue shoes sitting in the shower as he passed away. The love they had—the love that she fought for years to get and finally received—all of it is gone in a simple and heartbreaking scene. 

We watch Carrie struggle with her grief for the rest of the first season. She walks endlessly through the city. She tries to date, but it ends horribly (there was legit barfing). She meets a new friend who basically becomes the new sex-pert, replacing the absent Samantha Jones. Finally, she spreads Big’s ashes along the bridge in Paris, where he once told her, “She was The One.”

In the second season, we watch Carrie actually date. And in episode 6, she emails her long-lost love/ex-boyfriend/ex-fiance, Aidan. Aidan is sorta the one that got away. Except he is the one who got screwed over and cheated on, then gave Carrie a second chance, proposed, and then found out Carrie wasn’t really into the marriage idea. And years later, they see each other in Abu Dabi (WORST MOVIE EVER!), both married to different people, but end up making out with each other until Carrie runs away because, you know, those damn ironclad wedding rings. So basically, Aidan gets railed again and again. 

BUT sometimes you have that ex that you need to break one more time. Sorry, I almost ruined your marriage? Sorry, I broke your heart TWICE? Sorry, I fucked around with a dude who I knew was the love of my life while we were together? Sorry, I said yes to ring when I saw it was “just the right one”? Oops. Well, here I am again!

And honestly, I love it. 

In the last half of the second season, Carrie and Aidan date. And even though I am always and forever TEAMBIG, not going to lie; Aidan still looks pretty damn good after all these years. And they really are happy. Carrie seems genuinely happy. And as much as I sometimes hate that selfish, tiny, and impeccably dressed woman, I want her happy cause I think, if her, then me? Selfish: party of two!

And then two scenes happen. I thought I was having an aneurysm when I watched them. 

First, Miranda (the best friend) and Carrie walk down the street. Carrie goes on about how much she loves Aidan and then thinks maybe he was The One the whole time. I almost choke on my tongue when I hear this and toss it up that I just had a stroke. So moving on. 

Then the goddamn second scene plays out. 

Aidan and Carrie are staying in Carrie’s friend Che Diaz’s apartment (because there is a whole thing that Aidan can’t step into Carrie’s apartment, blah, blah, blah). Che sees them together and comments about how adorable they are, and they really are. Then asks, “Why did you break up?”

Carrie replies, “Because I made a mistake.”

I am dead. No, not dead. My eyes have fallen out of their sockets, blood has started to pour out of my ears, and I am stuffing an entire wine bottle down my gullet to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs. 

A mistake? A MISTAKE?!

At this point, I expect Mr. Big to rise from the dead and run them both over with his Peloton.

A MISTAKE?! 

We watched for years while Mr. Big played around with Carrie’s emotions. He even married another woman, who could have been the age of his daughter, and Carrie had an affair with him during his marriage. It was so messy, but it was real. In the end, she got exactly what she wanted—him—all of him. It’s the dream for those of us who need the validation from the one dude who broke us. 

Carrie doesn’t get to wash that away now that she found someone else. Especially when WE ALL SAW IT! I wonder if And Just Like That is so desperate for a new generation of eyes that it pretends Sex and the City didn’t actually air. Oh, that show? We have no idea what you are talking about; please watch this crap instead. Spoiler alert: Your audience is a bunch of me’s. Women in their 40’s and 50’s who saw every goddamn episode of Sex and the City multiple times. Don’t give us the it was “a mistake” bullshit.

And then some other crap happens with Aidan (honestly, I barely remember because I was rage drinking at this point). They decide to wait to continue the relationship for five years after his son graduates high school. 

Yeah, cause that always works out.

Sigh, bring on season 3 of this godforsaken show.