Last night was the premiere of the movie Sex and the City, the popular HBO series that was make into a movie. Much like The
Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter, Sex and the City created a frenzy long before it's opening that morphed everyday people
into the productions characters.Having quarantined any past memory of Sex and the City, or any former girlfriend associated
with it, to a distant region of my brain , I dismissed the fanfare that seemed to be brewing for weeks. This was a grave mistake
as bountiful opportunities were overlooked and I am unsure when an opportunity like this will present its self again.
How was the
movie?..who cares
I didn't see the movie and frankly I didn't even know it
was playing. All I know is that I text message a bartender that I to know to ask if her bar was busy. She replied " no,
but the Sex and The City" girls are here. I just figured she was being sarcastic, you can do that when you are hot and
have access to alcohol, and went to the bar anyway. Upon arrival I was greeted by a crappy band and plenty of bar seats but
much to my delight there were 9 attractive women sitting in around the bar in various group formations. All seemed to be dressed
very well and several were drinking cosmopolitans. While this scenario may seem a dream to some men, to me it was a frightening
step back in time and if it wasn't for the cleavage of one patron I may have ran screaming out of the establishment.
Several years ago I had a girlfriend who was a Sex in the City addict. She would
schedule their day around the show, note what clothes were worn, what food and drink was consumed and even what kind of pets
the cast had. I felt like I was in some virtual reality relationship only I obviously didn't have any control over who
I was going to bed with. I remember one night when I was out with her and she had up until that time been a beer drinker.
I asked the bartender for two Coors Lights when I was interrupted by " I'll have a cosmo" and s plume of smoke
across my face. I turned and looked at her and asked " what the hell is this about" to which she replied "
I just want to try something new". New is fine. There were plenty of new things I would have liked her to try; stop bitching,
be more accepting of unfamiliar ideas in bed, stop acting like her mother. This little new preference may seem petty but when
you jump from a $3 beer to a $8 cosmopolitan because of a TV show I get little annoyed. From there the hair started changing:
the clothes, the music and anything else that her brain could absorb from watching the series. My girlfriend was becoming
a stalker/groupie over imaginary characters. Crazy is still crazy even with a Fendi bag.
The mighty falcon dives towards his prey
Since the bar
was empty I figured it would be a good time to act like a man for once. Growing weary of sitting by myself all night and crying
myself to sleep, I convinced myself I would go strike up some SITC talk with the ladies. So in my most masculine posture I
stood up from the bar and went to the mens room to check for nose hair or whiteheads and then went out and approached them
in the most confident of strides. I stuck my head in between the two closest to me and asked in a low rich guy tone "
so how was the movie"
I then was left out of the conversation for the next 4
minutes. Like schoolgirls rushing off the bus to call each other, these two girls began to rehash the movie as though they
hadn't seen it with each other. As I nodded my head: raising it to catch a baseball score then lowering it to speculate
on pantie colors, I realized the excitement in their voices. This movie had done what we males fail to accomplish daily. It
made women shut up and think for two hours. For once I was sitting in between two girls at a bar and I wasn't listening
to one of them bitch about anything. My mind started to toy with the idea that this movie is actually a good thing, and in
what ways would that be exploitable.
I quickly found out that in the whole theater there were only two men.
I quickly presumed that these two guys were gay but was corrected by the girls and told the men were with women. My next speculation
was that their presence was not willing and most likely was the payback for a lost bet or some reconciliation attempt after
being caught cheating. Had this not been the case I am sure that their patronage to the viewing will undoubtedly be used in
the future as a bargaining chip for a night out with the guys. I would surely favor the latter.
So I figure every woman noticed these two poor prisoners. My sinister tendencies took over and I wondered what the
response would be if I went, alone, to one of these screenings. If I just stood in the lobby, eating popcorn by myself, wearing
an Eagles jersey and looked around smiling, would I look as pathetic as I hope. Perhaps I could draw the attention of a few
girls who were disappointed by their boyfriends refusal to go with them to the movie. If I could make myself visible to the
masses and then walk into the theater: down the isle to the front and in my obviously solo state squeeze past skirt covered
knees to sit. alone, in the middle , I surely would garner some sympathy. After the movie I would chat it up on the slow walk
out knowing full well that eyes were upon me. I would then head to the bar knowing the after movie crowd would arrive and
someone would have to recognise me as " that guy" Out of a hundred or so women in the theater, the chances that
a dozen or so will be surrounding me would be odds that even I could utilize. Talk about a stacked deck!
My daydreaming was interrupted by another
tidbit shared by the babbling bimbos: the movie sold out two days before its opening. Women are more competitive than men
and this is a good trait. No woman wanted to be the one hearing about the movie at work the next day. Had I known the demand
would have been at such a fevered frenzy I would have slept out for tickets. Holding premiere tickets to the Sex in the City
movie is paramount to holding cocaine at a Hooters waitress training session. If I was to score a dozen tickets I would hold
the key to a financial and sexual windfall. My thoughts of greed and lust intertwined like the stripes on a barber pole. I
felt a sickening in my stomach that only a lost opportunity can create.
At some point
way back at "how was the movie" I heard " boyfriend: mentioned a few times from each girl. Being in my late
thirties I have developed a strong dislike for getting my ass kicked which handily supersedes my desire to get laid. The image
of hundreds of women throwing panties at me in a dark theater had supplanted any notion of hitting on these two girls, single
or taken. I excused myself and thanked them for their information and made my way back to my stool. I vowed never to miss
another opportunity like this again
