This weekend a monumental social event occurred, no it wasn’t the blue full moon that hung over the city in a way in which no one had experienced in the last three decades; it was a Sex in the City Marathon. The six full years of the modern day woman’s plight in the relationship merry-go-round was going to play out in back to back episodes!
“Yes!” Single women everywhere would have the perfect weekend in jammies, bags of chips, pizza, wine, martinis and watch as the six years of the women we all love and admired played out again.
We all settled secretly on our couches reliving every second of the romances, broken hearts, sex, and the endless insane relationship revolving door between Carrie and Mr. Big. Her struggle to break free from whatever it was that kept her bound to this torturous relationship.
I suddenly look at the clock, “Shit! I’m late.” I have a dinner date to keep with my girlfriend. I text her. It seems she’s running late as well, and yes, she’s caught up in the Sex in the City relationship torture. As we sit through dinner, we can’t help and bring it up, the show that is.
It’s amazing as we see it all play out consecutively, we can’t help and notice what a pecker head Big really was. We laugh and can’t help and wonder, why Carrie kept going back again and again to that relationship? We can’t figure it out. We laugh, “that’s not us.” I say. She agrees. “We would never put up with that.” She says. I agree.
Today, I sit and talk with yet another girlfriend who seems to have been caught in the same vortex we all were this weekend. Again, “Why?” We ask. This guy left her, again and again, even married another woman. She would pick up the pieces, get her life going, be happy; and, he was back! Like some sort of black cloud hovering over her and raining, no pouring on her parade. He ruined every chance for happiness she would have with any other man, only to walk away, yet again. And, every time, he smirked, kissed her, and she forgave him.
The ultimate was leaving her at the alter in full Vera Wang with 300 guests at the NY City Library. Excuse me?! What! And, she still forgives him.
“I just don’t get it.” I tell my girlfriend. She agrees and we both nod our heads in awe. We talk about how we would never, ever put up with such behavior. “Never. “I say. She agrees. “We have resolve. “ She says. I agree.
“What? What is it? What do you want. I need you to go away. I hate you.” Carrie
“Please. I’m sorry. No one makes me feel like you do.” Mr. Big
“You need to stop. Leave me alone. I don’t want you anymore. I’m happy.” Carrie
“I know. I just need talk to you.” Mr. Big
“I hate you. I hate everything about you. Go away.” Carrie
“I know. I know. What time can I come over?” Mr. Big
"I Blame the Writers!"
ReplyDeleteA response by George Rodriguez
I'm writing in response to a question posed by a friend who happens to be a smart, sexy, urbane, thoroughly modern 21st century woman, also known as a Sex in the City fan. She wants to know why Carrie continually chose to forgive Mr. Big and take him back, even though he treated her worse than a spiked Manolo Blanik heel stuck in a subway grate.
I blame the writers.
I mean, his name is Mr. Big for god's sake! And it doesn't stop with SITC (as it's known to aficionados and lazy journalists), women are INUNDATED with mixed messages about what constitutes a man from the time they are old enough to say "Bitchin' Camaro!".
Guys are just as brainwashed, but it's not nearly as detrimental as the number done on women. Some guys flock to bimbos like cops to donuts; they eat one too many, and the worst that happens is "pull my finger" and it's done; on to the next one. Some women are like moths attracted to a flame, a much more dangerous pathology. They're not satisfied with a himbo - you know, the harmless, lovable muscle-head that buys you nachos at the monster truck show and calls you 'beb' - the kind of guy that would pull a plane with his teeth for you! - Nope, that guy's great, but too safe. Some women seem to go exclusively for for the most dangerous type of all... "the bad boy".
This is the one that will seriously f@ck with your gray matter! This is a guy that has the equivalent of a master's degree in women's studies from Vassar where he worked as a lifeguard. This is the guy that will have you BEGGING for his neglect, and thanking him for it, even as you hand him $20 for gas! Nice guys don't stand a chance, it's just the way it is. Bo-peep wants Wofie-Baby not Old MacDonald, even if he's got 100 acres of prime Candyland.
Eventually, there's no wing left to burn. By then, too many women have wasted too many years chasing wolfie-tail. Meanwhile, Wolfie finds religion one day and settles down with a nice, quiet girl that doesn't have as much baggage as Bo-Peep. Three wolf pups and a mortgage later, he's calling Bo-Peep at 2am asking what she's wearing, AND SHE'S TELLING HIM! By the time she starts demanding her own vanity mirror, when she's finally done feeding his ego from pieces of her own, she realizes she wasted a lot of time... She's reading self-help books and going on Match.com looking for a nice accountant to spend her middle years with.
I blame the writers.
One of the few movies that got it right IMO is Bridges of Madison County... She didn't leave with the bad boy, but you can bet your fake Italian accent she wanted to!