AND JUST LIKE THAT: Carrie Bradshaw Is a Drug Mule Now

Plus: Harry Goldenblatt golden blatts his big boy jeans.

This summer Johnny Writes… is all about the exciting (?) adventures of some rich ladies with lots of clothes. If you would like to help me become a rich lady also with lots of clothes, an excellent surefire way to do that is by putting your dollars into my virtual tip jar! Think about that every time you have a little chuckle.

Umm, hiiiyeeee. I have a really awkweird favor to ask: Can any of you get your momfluencer friends to get me some black market Adderall so I can do this recap? ’Cause the cocaine some rando Dutch-bag art collector gave me in the clurb toilets really isn’t cutting it this week.

OH MY GOD! Don’t you look at me like that Sarah Jessica Parker and Sarita Choudhury! This is partly your fault!

See, the main problem is that I would dearly love to sum up for you a kind of…unifying concept or theme for this episode before diving in. But sadly, And Just Like That… (respect the ellipsis) doesn’t have those. I think Kim Cattrall took them with her when she divorced SJP or whatever. I cannot make any of this make sense for any of us, and you will simply have to glean what wisdom you may from learning about what everyone did this week.

What Carrie and Seema did was travel to Virginia. See, one day Carrie’s publisher FaceTimed her up and was like: “People in fun places all over the world want to pay you to talk at them! Plus, also they do in Virginia, a place you would never in a million years want to go to for any reason womp womp.” But what Carrie’s publisher didn’t realize was that Virginia is precisely where Carrie’s absentee lover Aidan Shaw lives with his family of wayward boys.

“I will go to Virginia, and Virginia only!” Carrie declared.

Soon after, Aidan Shaw’s ex-baby mama Rosemarie DeWitt got wind of Carrie’s one-night-only one-woman show and called her up to beg her to bring New York’s finest drugs with her to Virginia.

“I need Adderall definitely not for me but for wee baby Wyatt, my troubled son” a very sweaty Rosemarie DeWitt said to Carrie.

Luckily, Carrie’s good friend Charlotte knew exactly which moms at her kids’ school to shake down for pills. And so, Ziplock baggie full of Adderall safely tucked into her bra, Carrie boarded a plane to Virginia with Seema.

“Exhumes me?”

Wait, how did Seema get roped into this Big Adventure? I’m so sad you asked. Basically, what happened was Seema’s gay corpse boss announced he was retiring and giving his whole company to Ryan Seacrest (or some other equally not-gay real-life reality TV real estate man guest star whose name I refuse to learn) instead of Seema herself like I guess he said he would? Which made Seema herself so mad that she had to flee to Virginia with Carrie.

Once there, they both basically kept having the same two parallel unrelated conversations with each other the whole time.

Seema: “Blah blah blah, should I start my own company or not?”

Carrie: “Blah blah blah Aidan Shaw Shaw Shaw.”

In New York, Charlotte was busy trying to sell art at this big art convention, and getting sad that she wasn’t as young and cool as her good-time party-all-night 20-something sidekicks who kept making million dollar $ale$ while getting $hithoused and blowing lines off of Dutch men’s donks in discotheques.

Coincidentally, Charlotte’s husband, Harry Goldenoldies, was also feeling the need to get his groove back. Oh, how he longed to feel the warm gush of exhilaration and relief spreading through him! And so, after forcing Carrie to buy him some fresh new big boy jeans, he and Charlotte ventured out into the nightlife! Everything seemed to be going pretty much fine at the clurb except that neither of them was having any fun at all. Then suddenly one of Charlotte’s gallerista minions was like, “Now we are going to another clurb!” Harry Goldenshart saw his moment and decided to seize it. While Charlotte and the gang were heading for the door, he skeeedaddled off to the toilets. He wasn’t even entirely consciously sure why! He simply knew that that was maybe the place where he could find the release he so desired in his bone of bones. Once inside the men’s watering closet, Harry felt a great swelling within himself, a familiar pressure he’d known his entire life. And in that moment, right there surrounded by various beautiful strangers, Harry Goldenshower finally let go, opening the floodgates of himself to allow the hot torrent of his desire and shame and bewildered ecstasy to rush forth in a cleansing deluge.

“Après moi…” he panted. “Après moi…”

Meanwhile, in a totally different clurb bathroom, Charlotte was trying to avoid having cocaine shoveled up her snout by some Dutch douche that one of her gal(lery) pals wanted very badly to boink. Sadly, there was only one opus Mr. Holland was interested in and it was Charlotte’s.

“Fuck directly off, sir!” Charlotte said, slapping the cocaine out of that Dutchman’s hand and fleeing into the night, which was actually the next morning. Then she sold a painting to that school mom who sold her the Adderall before, so I guess the moral of this storyline is…drugs? Just drugs. Period.

As for Miranda, she pretty much only had one scene and it was of her having drinks with Dolly Wells, BBC journalist, who was teaching her how to breath on TV. But really, that was just an excuse for the two of them to almost but not quite feel each other up. The only thing I really have to say about this scene is that if Dolly Wells wants to start an ASMR channel, I will watch it!

Similarly, Nicole Ari Parker’s storyline can be briefly summed up thusly: her longtime editor on her PBS documentary quits to go work with Oscar-winning director Steve McQueen; NAP gets mad, makes mashed potatoes, gets over it. The end.

Oh, also Anthony barely had a storyline too! See, his bread restaurant was failing due to his 20-something boyfriend Guiseppe not wanting to show off his giant wiener in a tiny denim onesie anymore. “Tony, I-a told a-you! I write-a de poems! I don’t-a sell-a de breads!” Guiseppe argued. But then he changed his mind for no reason and showed up at the carboretum with his wang hanging out in full view and the bread business was saved!

Far away in Virginia, Carrie and Seema were each still talking about their things at each other, this time in a rental car which they were driving to meet Aidan Shaw for lunch. While Seema was talking about how she didn’t want to be Ryan Seacrest’s beard or whatever, Carrie was realizing that Aidan Shaw had not yet invited her to spend the night at his home while she was in Virginia and she badly needed to have a crisis about that post-STAT.

Suddenly though, Seema drove the car right into a boobie-trapped parking lot and all the tires were pierced by spikes and exploded! Just as it was starting to look like maybe a Deliverance-type situation for our fancy ladies, who should show up to rescue them, but Jackson Maine!

Wait, no, I mean: That Guy Who Che Diaz Was Once Married To!

Nope, no, still wrong. It twas in fact Aidan Shaw in his truck!

GAH! EW! NOT LIKE THAT THO!

*Phew* Much better.

Aidan Shaw was immediately like, “Come stay at my farmhouse!” So, Carrie’s thing was solved. And also something about the rental car’s demise made Seema realize that she had to get back to New York right then to start her own business.

It all seemed like a happy ending, with Carrie and Aidan Shaw living happily ever after milking cows and tilling their oats or whatever on his homestead. But as soon as they got to his farm, Aidan snatched up Carrie’s bra Adderall and threw her into the outhouse!

“There you will stay until I have prepared my progeny for your coming,” Aidan Shaw cackled as Carrie gazed at the dank walls of her prison in despair.

To be continued I guess…