I got to thinking about fate. That crazy concept that we're not really responsible for the course our lives take. That it's all predestined, written in the stars. Maybe that explains why, if you live in a city, where you can't even see the stars, your love life tends to feel a little more random. And even if our every man, every kiss, every heartache, is pre-ordered from some cosmic catalogue, can we still take a wrong step and wander off our own personal milky way? I couldn't help but wonder, can you make a mistake and miss your fate?
Charlotte is trying to decide whether to have anal sex with a man she's dating. Miranda: It all depends on how much you like him? Charlotte: A lot. Miranda: "Dating a few months until somebody better comes along a lot", or "marrying him and moving to the East Hampton's" a lot? Charlottte: I don't know, I'm not sure. Miranda: Well, you better get sure real quick. Charlotte: You're scaring me. Carrie: Don't scare her. Miranda: It's all about control. If he goes up there, there's gonna be a shift in power, either he'll have the upper hand or you will. Now there's a certain camp that believe whoever holds the dick, holds the power. (Cab Driver turns around) Hello, you're driving! The question is, if he goes up your butt, will he respect you more or respect you less? That's the issue. Cab Driver: No smoking in cab. Carrie: Sir, were talking "up the butt", a cigarette is in order. (Cuts to Samantha now in the cab) Samantha: Front. Back. Who cares? A hole is a hole. Miranda: Can I quote you? Samantha: Don't be so judgmental. You could use a little back door. Charlotte: I'm not a hole. Carrie: Honey, we know. Samantha: Look, all I'm saying is this is a physical expression, that the body, well, it was designed to experience. And p.s., it's fabulous.