Six and the City
Sex and the City is an American television comedy-drama series created by Darren Star and produced by HBO.
Set and filmed in New York City and based on the book of the same name by Candace Bushnell, the show follows the lives of four New York women – who, throughout their varied careers, with all their idiosyncrasies and ever-changing sex lives, remain inseparable and confide in each other.
The quirky series had multiple continuing storylines that tackled relevant and modern social issues like sexuality, sexually transmitted diseases, safe sex, promiscuity, femininity while exploring the difference between friendships and relationships.
A feature film based on Sex and the City, written, produced and directed by Michael Patrick King, was released in 2008. Sex and the City 2, a sequel, was released in May of 2010.
This article has allusions to the popular TV series.
Scene 1: 8:20AM, Ms Evans’ bedroom
Ms Evans woke up with a hangover and a very sore lower torso. This was not the first time that she’d woken up in the morning, feeling this way. Usually she would indulge in a tall glass of Irish every time she woke up with a hangover, an age-old practice from her Belfast days.
But this one was a totally different ball game. The pain was excruciating. More than the pain, it was the feeling of having woken up from a terrible nightmare. She collected herself, rolled the comforter over and just lay in bed, in a trance, for a while longer.
“Did I really do that? And at my place?” she wondered, as the nightmare kept flashing across her mind. Was there a way to find out?
Scene 2: Flashback early morning 1AM, K2, China Town
The ladies had a business meeting and the boss had taken the team to The Haçienda. It was also a pre-birthday treat for Mrs. Rooney. Ms. Evans, still recollecting scenes from the night before, could clearly remember a clown, who kept toppling prime Belgian beer over his own head in an attempt to impress the ladies around.
“Such an idiot”, slipped through her lips. She recalled the sarcastic comments she had deliberately made audible to the big-mouthed, queer-dressed punk and his friends in the disco. What she witnessed in her nightmare was probably just a manifestation of her subconscious.
Scene 3: 8:45AM, Ms Evans’ kitchen
While brewing the Irish in the coffee maker, Ms Evans felt an insatiable urge to figure out whether it really was a nightmare or it did happen. But whatever it was, she didn’t want her mates to know. So, she decided the best thing would be to call up Mrs. Rooney and wish her happy birthday, to begin with. She would then try to piece the puzzle together. She made that call from her new iPhone 4S that was already flashing the birthday reminder. Ms Evans did her best to underplay her anxiety as she spoke to the birthday girl. Mrs. Rooney seemed quite collected, more than she had expected, as if nothing had happened last night. They discussed the party and the boys. It was not until then that Mrs. Rooney mentioned the noisy gang from the previous night, some of whom, Mrs. Rooney had invited to her party tonight as well. Ms Evans was getting it slowly but steadily. The party from last night was not all in her nightmare; part of it was true, after all.
Scene 4: 10:05AM, still in Ms. Evans’ kitchen
Ms. Evans took a long shower, still trying to locate the missing pieces of the jigsaw. Munching her fish and chips, she started gathering her thoughts again. This was not the first time such a thing had happened – earlier she had ended up where she should not have.
“So, what happened then?” she asked herself and noted down how things would shape up if it had really been true.
The boss would be furious – either he would throw a boot at her or shout at her; she quickly scrolled through the missed calls. Nope, he did not call. Had such a thing happened, Mrs. Evra would send her some jokes to cheer her up. But no, the last message was from an unknown number. She opened it quickly and it read, ‘Why always me’. As if the morning was not mysterious enough without this cryptic message.
Good God! What had she got herself into?!?
While running through other options, what struck her was the young Latina. Definitely the hairiest Latina she had ever come across, but now is not probably a time to laugh at her looks. She needed her. She dialled her number and ended up reaching her voice message.
Scene 5: 12:35PM, Ms De Gea’s residence
Ms Evans did not waste any more time thinking, quickly gobbled up the remaining breakfast and zipped out. The only time she could spare was to decide the colour of her stilettos. She then rushed through the busy Manchester traffic and reached Ms. De Gea’s residence on the other side of the city. She parked the car outside their apartment and walked up to the door only to find it locked.
“So she is out and not receiving calls either – wonder what this new girl is up to,” thought Ms Evans. She was about to leave a post-it on the front door with a message to call her back, when the next door neighbour looked at her inquisitively.
“You amigo of the gal?” asked the lady, with a broken half-Italian-half-English accent and
oddly sporting a scarf indoors. What she then told Ms Evans was shocking. Ms De Gea was in a city hospital. She had been abused, beaten black and blue and robbed by a bunch of hooligans after her friends abandoned her post a late night party.
Ms Evans’ face turned pale. She went back quietly, wishing she’d never dropped by to find out. It was all coming back to her now.
Scene 6: 10:35PM, Boss’ office, Beetham Tower, City Center
The view from his 19th floor office would be worth walking miles for anyone else, but when you see it every day from your cabin, it loses its charm. The old man stood quietly, his eyes looking beyond the Manchester skyline. He had gotten used to this view for 25 years now. Everything always seemed so small from his 19th floor office.
The doctor would not recommend him working so late at 70, but today that was the least of his concerns. He had tried hard to concentrate on his work all day, but was continuously distracted by the loud music from the office next door. They were having a party to celebrate some great feat. This was not a stray occurrence though, the once quiet and low key neighbours had started having these loud parties quite often in the past couple of years, and it was increasingly becoming a challenge to work peacefully. But today he wasn’t able to take his mind off how his girls had let him down – they should have been more careful. It was so humiliating, he felt like one of those tiny dots on the pedestrian crossing from the 19th floor. He was missing the services of his senior officers who had retired last year. Mrs. Vidic had also called in sick at the last moment. Could they have controlled the girls and prevented the situation from getting out of hand? He had also thought of appointing some efficient middle managers to keep things in control, but alas, his company was no longer the highest paymaster in town and could not afford them.
Just about then, a spine-chilling thought crossed his mind and his hands started shaking like it had happened that day. Could he have approached the game differently? Was it in his power to avoid the shame that was?
“There is only one way to go, Alex,” he said to himself.
The grim jaws chewed on the no-more sweet gum as the long-shot faded off in the distant sky.