So, I finally saw the Sex and the City movie last weekend. I know, perhaps the last woman on the planet to have seen it (of those that want to see it). I found myself tearing up several times during the film, which really says very little about its quality because for God’s sake, I cried during “Runaway Bride” which I believe might be the worst movie ever made. At the very least, it’s the worst movie Julia Roberts ever made.
While I don’t have much to say about the actual film – other than I liked it pretty well but thought that it wasn’t as good as the series – I was really interested in the audience. When I walked in (alone), I saw another woman my age, perhaps younger, toward the front. Another solitary woman sat all the way in the back, she was a little older than me. Two girlfriends sat in the middle of the theater. A few minutes after I walked in, two additional older women came in, each by themselves. One of them sat behind me.
Now, I haven’t seen a movie alone in nearly ten years, though I used to do it a lot in the late 90s. And Sex and the City seems like a friend kind of movie, the kind of movie women go to see in packs. So why were so many of us alone?
I know I was drawn to the friendships in the series – the kind of friendships that are like a marriage without all the paperwork. I haven’t had a friendship like that in a long, long time, unless you count the one I have with my sister. Seeing it on screen, even though I know it wasn’t real, made me a little sad. Some people do have friends like that.
I have struggled with making friends since moving here. My problem is I don’t have the time to devote to a friendship like I used to. I can’t go out for drinks after work or out dancing on the weekends. I can’t spend an hour on the phone at night or Saturday afternoons at the mall. And what’s left? What do I have to give?
I sipped my Diet Coke in the darkened theater and listened to the other women laughing in the theater around me, and I wondered what their stories were.