Carrie: There are very few things this New Yorker loves as much as Sunday brunch. You can sleep until noon and still get eggs anywhere in the city, alcohol is often included with the meal, and Sunday is the one day a week you get the single woman's sports pages: the New York Times wedding section.
Samantha: I can't believe that bitch is a no show. Carrie: I'm the one whose sick. I charged another outfit I can't afford. I probably bounced a check to a charity just to prove I'm amazing. I never felt so...let's just go. Samantha: I paid eighty-five dollars. We're having our two drinks. What do you feel like? Carrie: Um, loser on the rocks.