And Just Like That: James Weir recaps episode 7

The moment we’ve been waiting for has finally come in the Sex And The City reboot. And it has taken a horrendous turn.

WARNING: Spoilers and mature content

There comes a time in everyone’s life where you realise the most embarrassing thing you’ve endured can easily be one-upped by an even more embarrassing thing.

For Carrie Bradshaw, these events happen just days apart in episode seven of And Just Like That (streaming now on Binge). One minute she’s projectile vomiting on the street during a first date. The next, she’s standing on stage at a school charity auction where not a single person places a bid to have lunch with her. (Maybe because word got around that she projectile vomits everywhere she goes.) Either way, neither of these incidents are more excruciating than a Che Diaz comedy concert.

JAMES WEIR RECAPS: Read all the recaps here

After a wobbly beginning, And Just Like That finally hit its stride over the last three episodes. All the annoying set-up has been done for the new characters. And thanks to a time-jump, we’ve blasted past Carrie’s boring hip surgery recovery and the death of Big at the hands of that evil Peloton bike (I’ve been saying it for years: EXERCISE KILLS, PEOPLE! DON’T DO IT!).

Still, there are some things we’ve just had to accept. Like, the title of this show is a mouthful and will never easily roll off the tongue in casual conversation (the jumbled AJLT acronym doesn’t make it easier, either). The other thing we’ve had to come to terms with is that Che Diaz isn’t leaving any time soon. We’re destined to be tortured with more of their bad stand-up comedy and podcasting pursuits.

Anyway, episode seven opens with Carrie sitting in the window of her iconic brownstone, typing away on her Mac while eating a humble brown bread sandwich. What’s she writing? If only the AJLT producers didn’t get rid of her trademark voiceovers, we’d know. We’re left with our own imaginations. In my mind, she’s saying something like: Later that night, I got to thinking about relationships. Are men like bread? There are the Tip Top guys — the ones with no nutritional value, who we crave even though we know they’re bad for us. And then there are the multigrain guys — the ones we have absolutely no desire for but who we know will keep us regular. Is it better to follow the breadcrumbs to your heart … or your head?

Tip Top is always the right choice.

Welp, we find out soon enough what Caroline Bradshaw has been writing. She’s dashed off a book. Easy breezy. And her overly animated publisher is just as excited as us to read the 100,000-word tome of really bad puns.

There better be at least 87 shoe analogies.

But the book doesn’t quite match expectations. It’s a raw and moody memoir fuelled by the grief of losing the love of her life. The publisher (who really should’ve been played by Kathy Najimy. We need Kathy in more regular roles) loves it, but wants Carrie to inject it with some of that ol’ Sex And The City razzle dazzle from her columns. You know — less an-exercise-bike-killed-my-husband, and more I-went-on-a-date-with-a-politician-and-he-asked-me-to-pee-on-him.

“You’ve spent your whole career writing about your quest for love — and then you finally find it … and then he dies,” the publisher winces. “It’s a real departure for you as a writer … You’re known for writing Sex And The City! I’m afraid, if we publish this, your readers are gonna pitch themselves out their windows while clutching their tubs of Häagen-Dazs.”

Carrie shifts uncomfortably on the office sofa.

“I imagine at some point you’re gonna start dating again?” the publisher pushes, suggesting Carrie try going on just one date to include in the book. “If there’s just one tiny part of you that’s open to a date … It’d be great if it could happen in the next few weeks...”

It’s a no. There’s zero chance Carrie is ready to go on a date. And for what? Just to get some lousy book published? Pah-lease. It’s called having pride and self-respect.

“When I pitched (it) to Oprah’s Book Club people, they got very excited,” the publisher winks.

And just like that, Carrie is ready to date again.

“I’m going on a date!” she declares over drinks with Charlotte, Miranda and her real estate agent Seema.

Well, there aren’t “drinks” for everyone. It’s strictly water with cucumber garnishes for you, Ms Hobbes.

Charlotte’s probably already done a sneaky handbag check and confiscated any of those tiny bottles of aeroplane vodka Miranda had been lugging around.

It’s in this scene we miss Samantha Jones the most. If she was here, she’d probably switch on that husky voice and say something like: “Oh, honey — if they want a book about sex, maybe they should publish my memoir”.

“And what would you call it?” Carrie would humour her.

Samantha would raise an eyebrow and smirk. “The Dick-tionary.”

Then two conservative old ladies would glance over with a disgusted look.

Later that night, Carrie unwinds the same way all of us single people do: by rolling up her sleeves and dipping into the dating app sludge pit to see what debris she finds.

I personally imagine hell to be a place where the dating apps are filled exclusively with profiles of guys who wear bad vests and pork pie hats:

*Block*

The dating app offerings might be dire, but an Oprah Book Club selection isn’t going to write itself. So Carrie swipes right on a widowed teacher and goes out on a date. What’s the harm? Besides, it’s what we all wanna see: Carrie Bradshaw back out on the scene.

At the restaurant, the guy seems nice enough — but the conversation immediately veers into chat about their deceased spouses. Not exactly the pizzazz Carrie’s publisher wants.

There’s only one thing to do. Like Miranda in the midmorning, Carrie turns to alcohol.

After the booze starts flowing, the rest of the date goes wonderful-

Cute! A his-and-hers projectile vom!

Carrie’s re-emergence on the dating scene isn’t quite how she imagined it. This double-vom incident just makes her wanna hide out in her apartment with a nice sandwich.

Understandable ... but that’s boring for us to watch. Thank gosh Charlotte has committed Carrie to appearing at a school fundraising auction where she will be sold to the highest bidder. We can always count on Mrs York Goldenblatt and her whackjob extra curricular activities.

They turn it into a girls’ night out and roll up to the fancy private school. This is where Miranda is blindsided by an appearance from TV’s new favourite villain: Che Diaz.

It’s impossible to quickly summarise the collective thoughts we all have about Che as a character.

But basically, for the uninformed: Che Diaz is a gender nonbinary, pansexual comedian who hosts the really bad weekly podcast that Carrie appears on. She also fingerbanged Miranda in Carrie’s kitchen (again, it’s too much to explain right now — just watch the damn show so, in future, you can keep up. We’re not turning back any more). Ever since, Miranda — who’s still in a sexless marriage with Steve — has been obsessed with Che. But it has been three months since Miranda DMed Che after the kitchen tryst — and Che hasn’t responded. Miranda brings it up at the school auction.

“Three months? Miranda, I’ve done a tonne of weed... I can barely remember three hours ago,” Che tells her. “Plus, I get a lot of DMs. I wasn’t being a dick, I just didn’t clock it. Ask for what you want. It’s a turn on. ... I’ll tell you what I want. I wanna go some place with you and take off all your clothes.”

Cut to Miranda and Che in bed with Miranda passionately declaring her love. We cringe harder than we do when Che presses that “woke moment” button during their podcast.

Have fun at all those comedy concerts, Hobbes.

Back at the school auction, it’s time to call Carrie up to the stage and get the bids rollin’ in.

“A DATE WITH SEX WRITER CARRIE BRADSHAW!” one of the school dad’s announces over the microphone.

Carrie’s mortified. “It was a lunch date,” she scolds Charlotte about the less than elegant introduction. “And ‘sex writer’?Like, what, like, I write porn?”

Everyone’s looking.

“Our friendship is over,” she whispers to Charlotte, but then remembers that she’s indebted to her friend for life because of the wedding ring down payment from season four, episode 16.

As she stands on stage in front of the P&F committee, silence falls over the room.

No one bids the minimum $500. The auctioneer decreases the reserve price. It’s humiliating. Then The Vom Guy enters. He’s a teacher at the school! With a bid of $1,050, he proudly secures a second date with Sex Writer Carrie Bradshaw.

And just like that, the couple that projectile voms together, stays together.

Twitter, Facebook: @hellojamesweir

And Just Like That … continues on BINGE with new weekly episodes each Thursday at 7pm AEDT.