Friday

Samantha was not one to become anxious when a man didn't call. She thought nothing of it when Dominic didn't call on Tuesday. She thought very little of it when he didn't call on Wednesday. By Thursday she was trying not to think about the reasons he wasn't calling. Then Friday morning, he called and asked her to lunch at a popular lunchtime watering hole.

"So, Dominic, tell me, what is this big news you were mentioning this morning.

" You've been so great. This thing between us has been so damned hot. No other woman has ever turned me on the way you do. I don't want it to end."

" Ooooh, I feel the same way," Samantha cooed seductively. This is what she had been hoping for all week.

"Good, we're on the same page then. I have something to tell you. I went out to Tiffany's this morning and bought a ring.

"A ring?"

"Yes, for Annika. If I marry Annika, it will consolidate the deal between her father and me. Otherwise, I'm just another suitor with an offer on the table. The old man would do business with his son-in-law. Right now, I am the head of one of the largest publishing companies in New York City. But with old man Gyllstrom's support, I am going to be in a whole new league. I have my chance to be where I have always wanted to be."

"You're dumping me for some bitch with a trust fund?"

"Hold on. I never said anything about dumping you. Look, I know a woman like you understands what I am saying. I have a friend who is moving out of his apartment near my office. I'd like to take it for you. We could be together all the time. I know we'll have a great time together. I could help your get that PR firm of yours into the big time. It would be good for both of us. Everybody wins."

Samantha was suddenly seeing the writing on the bedroom mirror, and she didn't like what it was starting to say."

The waiter approaches the table with the menus. "May I tell you about our lunch specials?"

"Give us a moment," Dominic said in an irritated tone.

Samantha got out of her chair, threw her drink in Dominic's face and walked off.

Saturday

Miranda picked up her phone and dialed Derek's number, knowing that he would be on the plane to Los Angeles and that his voice mail would pick up.

"Derek, about what you said yesterday… I think it was important that you said it, and I liked hearing you say it. Good luck in LA."

Meanwhile at one of America's castles on Cape Cod, a handsome Prince and his fair damsel had just been joined in marriage.

The wedding photographer announced, "That's it everybody. We just need a few more of the bride and her family and we're all done."

Bitsy's mother said, "Okay, all you bridesmaids, we're going to have the car come for you in about five or ten minutes to take you to the club for the reception."

Charlotte started to look for the bathroom. She took a wrong turn and ended up in a spare bedroom instead. She felt a hand, large and warm caressing, her buttock. She heard her own startled cry, and then she turned around to face the offender.

"Albert?"

"I couldn't help but notice how sexy you look in that dress."

"But you married Bitsy just half an-hour ago."

"So? Bitsy is a good sport. Mr. and Mrs. Bourgeois Middle America like to see their candidates standing on the platform with a pretty wife. They don't like bachelors. In return, Bitsy gets to be Mrs. Albert Prince and I don't even care that her real father is a carpenter.

Albert had no way of knowing he had found the one woman at that wedding who would never see marriage as an quaint, bourgeois custom.

Charlotte flailed, hitting him over and over again with her bouquet until there was not a bloom intact. She then stomped off down the hall until she found the bathroom. She went in and locked the door behind her. She sat on a vanity stool near the door, took her cell phone out of her bag and dialed Carrie's number.

"Hi, this is Carrie. I'm out shoe shopping. Leave me a message."

She thought of calling Miranda or Samantha. She punched the speed dial number for Miranda. After the phone rang the third time, she hung up. She knew what she could have to do.

When she was in the reception line, Charlotte saw Albert discretely caressing the still-shapely buttocks of his new mother-in-law. He was some prince, that Albert.

Sunday

Samantha stands alone in the living room, near the front door. She is holding her cell phone. Dominic's name is highlighted on a list of names on the phone's screen. Samantha scrolls down until she reaches the delete option. The screen on the phone asks, "Are you sure you want to delete 'Dominic'?" Samantha pushes the "yes" button. She put the phone in her handbag and left her apartment.

Later that afternoon four friends spent a couple of hours wondering though the rows of stall at the flea market. Carrie saw the booth that she had been looking for all afternoon, the one that sells the ghetto gold jewelry. She lets out a happy little shriek, which stopped her friends.

Later, the vendor handed Carrie her purchase, a necklace. She hands the elephant ear she had been eating to Miranda who threw it in the trash. Carrie then made her hair into ponytail with her hands and pulls it away from her neck. Charlotte takes the necklace and fastens it around Carrie's neck. It is THE "Carrie" necklace.

That night Carrie sat with her Mac opened in front of her. It was time for her to put her column to bed for another week.

If New York City is the great sexual banquet, why does it seem that so many poor suckers starving? Has the bounty laid out before us have our spirits undernourished and underfed? Can the exhaustive search for what we are told we should want keep us from what truly nourishes our souls? Or maybe, we just need good friends to keep us company while we wait for our fairy godmother to show up.