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Shows My Girlfriend Makes Me Watch: Sex and the City

Shows My Girlfriend Makes Me Watch is a weekly column in which I, Joseph Oliveto, Internet writer and part time Grand Theft Auto hitman and getaway driver, review television programs which I only watch because my girlfriend likes them. This week’s show: Sex and the City.

Prior to dating my girlfriend, I had never watched an episode of Sex and the City, primarily because I knew that the show had little to do with sex, even less to do with sex and cities, and more to do with drinking appletinis and buying shoes, two things which I do as rarely as possible. However, my girlfriend, like many other women in her demographic, enjoys the show, and since I am shameless in my attempt to get her to watch as many violent gangster movies as possible, I figured it was only fair that I spend some time with her show to see what all the fuss was about.

From the handful of episodes I have watched, I figure that the appeal of the show lies in the fantasy world it portrays, in which we can all live lives of glamour, fun, and sex, while not doing the slightest bit of work. It is a quintessentially American show about people who talk so much about their stressful lives that they don’t have any time leftover to actually have stress in their lives. That’s an inspiring message if there ever was one.

Before we go any further, though, let’s get to know some of these characters.


Carrie Bradshaw: Don’t worry, none of the usual Sarah Jessica Parker jokes will be made here, mainly because I’ve got a tremendous gripe with this character that goes way beyond whether or not the woman who plays her is hot enough for insecure thirteen-year-olds to fantasize about her or not. No, see, my main problem is that Carrie, from what I gather, makes a living writing a column about her sex life, and as someone who has tried writing for a living, I can only say that if this were a realistic show, it would depict her as living in a cardboard box and sustaining herself by breaking into retirement homes to steal food from the residents who are too old and weak to stop her. I’ve been there, and it’s not a pretty place to be. But no, Carrie’s fine, completely able to buy expensive clothes, drink expensive drinks, and live in an apartment not much smaller than Bruce Wayne’s in The Dark Knight, all while doing nothing more than writing a thousand words or so each week about who she happened to sleep with.

Meanwhile, no one wants to pay me a dime to read about my sex life. Bullshit.

Samantha Jones: Played by Kim Cattrall, whose facial expression is always that of a woman on trial for a murder she already knows she’s getting away with (that’s not supposed to be funny, just true), Samantha is a PSA about promiscuity waiting to happen. Despite looking like what you would get if you spliced the genes of Legolas with that of a cat – and she’s basically a cougar, so it kind of makes sense – she manages to seduce about half of New York City over the course of the few episodes I have watched. I can only assume that the second film in this franchise took place in another country (I saw the trailer) because she ran out of men in the United States to sleep with.

Charlotte York: My girlfriend informs me that I’m a Charlotte, so all I have to say about this character is that she is clearly the best ever. She’s smart, funny, successful, as well as intelligent, witty, and a synonym for successful.

Miranda Hobbes: Despite supposedly being a prominent lawyer, like every other character on this show, we never, ever see her working. The only people who live that type of lifestyle are those on the far ends of the economic spectrum: poor, unemployed people, or CEOs. She is neither, as far as I’m aware.

Common Themes

Like so many other shows which highlight the plight of the working class, Sex and the City is about the trials and tribulations of wealthy, employed, reasonably attractive white people living in what may be the most well-known city in the world. As such, drama is sure to erupt in each episode, when the character grapple with such issues as “What shoes should I buy?” and “What cheap brand of liquor did that bartender put in me appletini?”

Gripping, powerful stuff.

Although the show does not involve as much sex as the title would imply, the sexual relationships of the four characters do play a fairly prominent role in the show. You decide for yourself whether that’s a good thing or not. I, for one, think they should do a crossover with Mad Men. Make a third Sex and the City movie, just so one of the girls can sleep with an aging Don Draper. That would make this show approximately a million times more awesome.


So, I can’t say that Sex and the City has particularly grabbed me as a dedicated viewer, but it has renewed my faith in my ability to make a living as a writer. If Carrie Bradshaw can live the life that rich college girls only dream of while occasionally vomiting out some words for her weekly column, maybe I can too. Thank you, Sex and the City.

Never thought I’d say that.

(And since this is the Internet, I technically didn’t say it, I wrote it.)

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