Carrie drank five bloody mary's on the plane, and they fought all the way home. In the airport. In the limo. Carrie didn't shut up until he said, "Do you want me to drop you off at your place? Is that what you want?" When they got to his apartment, she called her parents. "We got into a big fight," she said. "He's just a creep. Like all men."
"Are you all right?" her father asked.
"Oh, I'm great," she said.
Then Mr. Big was nice. He made her get into pyjamas and sat with her on the couch. "When I first met you, I liked you," he said. "Then I liked you a lot. Now I. . I've grown to love you."
"Don't make me vomit," Carrie said.
"Why me, baby?" he asked. "With all the guys you've gone out with, why do you want to pick me?"
"Who said I did?"
"What is this, a pattern?" Mr. Big said. "Now that I'm more involved, you want to bail. You want to run away. Well, I can't do anything about that."
"Yes, you can," Carrie said. "That's the whole point."
"I don't get it," Mr. Big said. "How is our relationship different
from all the others you've had?"
"It's not. It's just the same," Carrie said. "So far, it's just sufficient."
The next morning, Mr. Big was his usual cheery self and it was annoying. "Help me pick out a tie, baby," he said, the way he always did. He brought five ties over to where Carrie was still trying to sleep, turned on the light, and handed her her glasses. He held the ties up to his suit.
Carrie glanced at them briefly. "That one," she said. She threw off the glasses and lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes.
"But you hardly even looked at them," Mr. Big said.
"That's my final decision," she said. Besides, in the end, isn't one tie very much like another?"
"Oh. You're still mad," Mr. Big said. "I don't get it. You should be happy. After last night, I think things are a lot better."