My reverie stopped in the West Village, where we headed to Carrie’s driveway only to learn that the crazed SATC fans they frequently jumped the hastily erected fence to the royal owners’ doorstep, often shouting ‘Where’s Carrie?’ while they did. I’m proud to say that I’ve never let my obsession with the series metastasize to that level, but I smiled nonetheless as Eliza, Natalie, and I posed for a selfie versus the window from which Carrie once yelled at Aidan.
Our next stops, Magnolia Bakery and Cosmos at Steve and Aidan’s Bar (aka Onieals, SoHo’s all-too-real bar that plays SATC’s bar ), only served to highlight the ways in which my gastrointestinal integrity had failed me since the series aired. I can no longer eat straight sugar, a fact I was bitterly reminded of as Natalie and Eliza clinked pink frosty glasses outside in the cold. While they busied themselves with their drinks and cupcakes, I tried to pinpoint the source of the weird feeling I’d had since we got on the bus, which, unlike my friends, I couldn’t put down to THC alone.
The fact of going to a tour by bus from ‘Sex and the City’ in the midst of a pandemic – and during a surge of the disease that caused the pandemic in question, on a bitterly cold New York day, in a time that feels simultaneously mundane and lawless – it makes you feel absolutely insane. It was assumed that ‘Sex and The City’ was going to be a series of flirtations, fun and foam, so why was I frantically searching my bag for hand sanitizer while the tour guide pointed me to the spot where Miranda told Carrie she was pregnant, ‘right there, past the COVID-19 testing van’ ?
I tried my best to succumb to the fantasy of the visit, but reality got in the way. I wondered about the path of our eminently talented tour guide, Christiana, from drama school to narrating Carrie’s hazy, crazy New York days, and was surprised to learn that she gave this tour almost every day of the week. How is that job? I wondered, something I had rarely wondered about Carrie’s column or Miranda’s law firm or Samantha’s PR firm. (I know what their jobs were like: star-studded and messy enough that girls could walk away from work for omelettes and cosmos 24 hours a day without worrying about losing their health insurance.)