Summer hit the City this weekend like...well, it was just too darn hot, let me tell you. What happened to those beautiful Spring days? It is one thing to be hot in Atlanta and jump in your air conditioned car, it is another to have to get out into the heat and walk around grocery shopping, especially when my apartment's air conditioning unit wasn't working.
This weekend, it was all about staying inside, and so, my friends and I went to a matinée on Sunday. Never has an old-fashioned "Air Conditioned" sign on the outside of the theater meant so much to me.
I saw the new Sex and the City movie for the second time, once last week in San Francisco and now here in the City.
Both cities had women in the audience dressed up in high heels and those little black dresses. Basically, this movie is 35-year-old women's Harry Potter.
I found it interesting to compare bi-coastal audience reaction:
When Carrie walks into her future penthouse apartment, with arched windows and hardwood floors for miles, in San Francisco, the audience swooned. In New York, a sarcastic ripple of laughter filled the audience, everyone knowing that, even with Big's help it was utterly unrealistic that Carrie could afford such a place.
In San Francisco, when the girls walk down the street in a parade of high heels and haute couture, the audience said "wow" or "hot." In New York, the audience grumbled: "yeah, right, like you could walk one avenue in those stilettos"
In San Francisco, when Big whisks a pregnant Charlotte to his waiting car on the way to the hospital, San Franciscans debated the kindness of Big. In New York, they wondered how the hell he got such a good parking space.
And, as I sat wiping my forehead for the millionth time, I took note that movies never seem to show New Yorkers melting in sweat on 99 degree days.
Welcome, Summer. I could have used a little more Spring. But, hey, I ain't complaining.
