Well, well, well! Behold, who's floating on a cloud of newfound romantic bliss! Ever since Carrie, Aidan, and that infamous jacket made their dramatic reunion on the bustling streets of New York City, they've been holed up in a hotel, indulging in passionate encounters that have Carrie proclaiming she's experiencing the pinnacle of orgasmic bliss! The pair simply cannot keep their hands off each other, sparking whispers among onlookers about their frenetic pace. Charlotte, ever the enthusiast, eggs them on, urging more, more, now! Carrie, ever the conformist, eagerly adopts Aidan's philosophy, reveling in hearing precisely what she longs to hear.
Despite their fervent ardor, Aidan steadfastly refuses to set foot inside Carrie's apartment, prompting Carrie to propose a temporary solution: renting Che's AirBnB whenever Aidan is in town. Though not ideal, Che's sparsely furnished abode offers Carrie and Aidan an opportunity to create a homely nest they never had before. The thrill of shopping for household essentials is universal, and while their domesticity is endearing, their relationship is moving at warp speed.
It's only a matter of time before Carrie and Aidan begin planning her visit to his farmhouse in Virginia to meet his children. It's heartening to see Carrie happy and making plans (albeit with a lingering memory of their tumultuous past in Aidan's cabin), but one knows that such unbridled joy is bound to hit a snag—perhaps a significant one. Speaking of significant, let's delve into Carrie's heart-to-heart with Miranda.
In a private moment, Carrie confides in Miranda about a persistent thought gnawing at her: their connection with Aidan is unparalleled, and she wonders if she was holding back because of Big. She ponders whether her reluctance to fully commit to Aidan stemmed from her belief that Big was "the one." "Was Big a colossal mistake?" she posits, channeling her old Sex and the City column persona. Miranda, understandably taken aback, offers no immediate response. It's understandable; what do you say to such a profound revelation? Part of Carrie's contemplation stems from her rose-tinted glasses at the outset of this new romance. While it's admirable that she's processing her feelings with her best friend, the topic is abruptly dropped! Surely, it will resurface later, but what a bombshell to detonate and then simply walk away from! Miranda, a lawyer known for her thoroughness, doesn't even follow up after having time to reflect. One would expect at least a cursory discussion by episode's end, but And Just Like That's narrative structure remains as chaotic and unpredictable as ever.
Listen closely; "And Just Like That" doesn't necessitate—nor should it ever indulge in—a melodramatic spectacle filled with profound, soul-searching dialogues among its characters. Yet, if such a narrative arc is embarked upon, let it be with unwavering commitment. A similar dilemma arises with Seema's storyline herein.
The heart of this episode beats with Carrie deeply ensconced in her Aidan-induced cocoon, while Seema finds herself struggling to witness her friend blissfully embarking on a second great love of her life, amidst her own solitude. She starts steering clear of Carrie and even scraps their summer plans in the Hamptons—the mere thought of spending an entire summer being reminded of what she yearns for but lacks is an insurmountable hurdle for her. It's not that she isn't thrilled for Carrie; rather, Seema can't suppress a tinge of envy and self-loathing. When Carrie confronts her about ghosting, realizing one can only evade the woman next to them at the hair salon for so long, Seema implores her friend for a modicum of breathing room. Carrie, perhaps contemplating Samantha in this fleeting moment, pleads with her not to withdraw. However, Seema stands firm in her request. Allow me to indulge in a bit of geekiness—this is a poignant illustration of self-advocacy. How many of us haven't sought to extricate ourselves from a situation that leaves us feeling desolate about our own lives? While it may seem slightly selfish, sometimes it's a necessity to get through the day.
All of this is commendable. However, the issue arises shortly after this poignant scene, where Seema joins Carrie, Aidan, Miranda, and Charlotte for dinner. It's heartening to see that she's evidently gained the space she craved and, after some introspection, has mustered the maturity to be present for her friend. It just would've been enriching to glimpse the journey she undertook to reach this point. Unfold the process for us! Did she confide in someone else? Does this woman possess a social circle beyond Carrie Bradshaw? Oh, please let the answer be yes. It's a grievous oversight not to delve deeper into Seema's character. We're treated to a grand display of her requesting space, yet we're denied insight into how she navigated through it. It's a fertile ground for exploration, yet it feels somewhat undercooked.
At the very least, they could have bestowed upon Seema a confidant to share her thoughts with, akin to how best friends Charlotte and Anthony engage in a pseudo-conversation where they talk at each other without truly listening, yet somehow find it productive. These two, as ever, remain a delight.
Anthony finally finds himself a romantic spark! Giuseppe and his colossal Italian loaf have lingered at Hot Fellas far beyond the initial week-long agreement, as if time itself has taken a vacation in the realm of "And Just Like That." In this universe where chronological constraints are but a whimsical notion, I've embraced the anomaly wholeheartedly. Their days are filled with lighthearted camaraderie, climaxing in Giuseppe's hilarious recreation of the pottery wheel scene from "Ghost," albeit with a lump of bread dough taking center stage. All is well and flourishing until Anthony discovers Giuseppe's homosexuality, leading him to worry about professional boundaries blurring. Their discourse teeters on the brink of Anthony's potentially unethical decision to terminate Giuseppe, until Anthony confessionally admits his attraction. In a twist of fate, Giuseppe opts to resign and plants a kiss on Anthony, amidst Anthony's frantically proclaimed "I'm fucked," to which Giuseppe aptly responds with a well-timed, "Well, not yet," stealing the moment with perfect wit. While the scenario is laden with cautionary signals, there's an undeniable sweetness to it. Prepare yourselves for Anthony's upcoming narrative on the dynamics of their loaf-infused escapades. The pun-laden, carb-centric humor即将 flood our screens, and I, for one, am already ecstatic at the mere thought.
