13 Things In 'Sex And The City' That Definitely Don't Ever Happen In New York
Sometimes when I'm writing, my internal voice will suddenly morph into Carrie Bradshaw. Against my free will, a pesky "I couldn't help but wonder..." will pop into my head, spoken in Carrie's voice like a demon that must be exorcised. When I was binge-listening to Serial, Carrie was briefly usurped by Sarah Koenig as my interior monologue's voice but, unfortunately, Carrie has returned. And Sex and the City haunts me in other ways, too. I am also tormented by all of the things that happen in Sex and the City' s New York that definitely do not ever happen in the real New York.
I grew up in a small town named Ooltewah, Tennessee, which is far from being anything like New York City. I am still, however, reeling from the blow dealt to me by Sex and the City via the unrealistic expectations it gave me about New York City.
SATC taught me that being an adult in New York consisted almost exclusively of working occasionally and, much more frequently, galavanting around town while spending money irresponsibly like a teenager with their dad's credit card at the mall. Learning the realities of adulthood are hard enough without having to find out that not only will you never move to the Big Apple and live in a Bradshaw-esque impeccably decorated studio apartment, you will be lucky to have an apartment in New York that contains a closet.
Of the many, many inconsistencies that plagued Sex and the City's New York, the following are the 13 most unrealistic expectations SATC 's New York gave me that never happen in real-life New York.
Spacious, Affordable Housing
This is been harped on enough that it barely needs mentioning. I mean, look at Carrie's apartment. And she's a writer. Come on, SATC, you could've at least tried to make apartment living in NYC a bit more realistic.
For four women who live in the "city that never sleeps," the Sex and the City gals sure do have a lot of spare time in which to muse and philosophize about the intricacies of sex and dating. There has been approximately one time in the last year that I have been able to sit down and spend time with my small group of best friends all at the same time. I barely have time to sleep, shower, and work out like twice a month, much less time for, like, five girl's nights out per week.
If I drank the same amount of girly drinks as Carrie and the gang, I would be living in a van down by the river and not in an apartment with running water. In reality, when a vodka soda costs $16 at a bar, you chug Trader Joes' Two Buck Chuck before going out so you only have to buy one, two at most, drinks when you go out.
Wearing Heels Everywhere and Never Having Foot Pain
Yes, New Yorkers walk a lot. They do not, however, bar hop in 5-inch Manolos with impunity.
Taxis Screeching to a Stop the Moment You Snap Your Fingers
I would live with the seven dwarves if it meant my rent could be a little cheaper. The only way I could ever live on my own in New York City is, oh wait, never. Roommates are a necessity.
LOL, a walk-in closet. OK, Carrie.
Minus Miranda in her beginning Mommy stages, every time I watched Sex and the City, I couldn't help but wonder "when do these women sleep?" I know, I know. Who has time to sleep when you're constantly shopping, having sex, talking about shopping and having sex, not working, being angry, and drinking cosmos? But seriously, for people who never seem to sleep, these women sure are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
Pigeons Leave You Alone
Where are all the pigeons, SATC?
Cockroaches Don't Exist
Where are the scenes of Miranda being unfazed by the crunch of a cockroach under her heel when she gets out of bed to pee in the middle of the night?
Cabs Don't Almost Hit You on the Reg
How come Carrie never almost gets hit by cabs?
Ah, an even more rare breed than the closet: the elevator. The SATC girls were never once pictured sweaty and out of breath as they nursed their sore arms after lugging their groceries up to their fifth-floor walk up.
No One Bitches About Time Warner
For ladies who complain about everything, the Sex and the City women are somehow the only New Yorkers who don't possess a white-hot hatred for Time Warner.
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