Play it again, Sam

Listen, this is what I have to say about New York. It's the same thing I would presumably say to anyone thinking about going to Casablanca: don't go to Casablanca expecting it to be like the movie. Casablanca is the armpit of Morocco and being 23 in Manhattan is nothing like being Carrie Bradshaw on Sex and the City. This piece written by a fellow (albeit irritating) young female in New York, is least reiterating my thoughts, (somewhat) as a poor, entry-level female trying to get a sense of reality about what it’s like to live in New York.

"Essentially, I think it's fair to say that for a young woman there is more fun to be had in New York City than anywhere else. But beneath the vodka sodas, the great bars and clubs, and the entertaining flirtations with men, are deeper issues about independence, friendship, relationships, and sex. Whether it's what Carrie Bradshaw would have been doing at 23 will remain a mystery. It is, however, what my friends and I are doing at 23."

Right. Vodka soda. My thoughts exactly. But at 23 Carrie Bradshaw was probably still getting money from her parents so she could afford to live in the West Village and was waiting tables to afford writing classes at NYU. After reading this I don't think the author has much understanding of any “deeper issues” at all, as her idea of a “low-key night” is $14 mojitos at 60 Thompson, while mine is $1 beers at the bar on 84th and 1st. And if what she says is true and phone calls to guys are “so 2002,” then the outlook for where her next drink is coming from is bleak. Come on, it's what any self-respecting classy girl would say.

In this city you know you’re going to be buying your own drinks, paying for your own cabs, waiting for tables and walking, feet hurting, long distances in less than fabulous shoes. Because when the latest Jimmy Choo costs as much as March rent, you pass.

And anyway, in the end of Casablanca Rick says goodbye to Ilsa after they’ve finally been reunited, shipping her off on a plane, saying he loves her too much to let her stay. In reality? He never would have talked to her again after she lied to him all those years ago, after she never showed up at the train station and left him waiting in the rain with Sam, As Time Goes By humming softly in the background.

That’s why we have television and movies, to get a glimpse of the way we would like things to be, far removed from harshness of reality, wishing rather than hoping that a kiss is still a kiss after all.