They're not strangers. They're our new friends with pot.

Episode Seven: the post-it always sticks twice

Okay, I’m going to try to tread very lightly here. There’s this whole Sex and the City tour industry, and places that are featured on the show can kind of become NYC destinations for tourists from the “fly-over regions,” such as where I currently live and blog. MPK even said in one commentary that because the SATC girls went to Raw and didn’t like it, the raw food movement never caught on. Ass. But that’s a whole other can of worms.

The reason I bring this up is because of Bed (“If that last place was called Bed, this should be called Smell”). It’s a real club, and I know this because two fellow Texans I know have been there. One of them said it was really exclusive and you had to be selected to get inside. Oh, God, how do I say this without being a bitch?

If it was featured on a TV show, and probably owes it’s staying power to said TV show, then I really don’t think it’s a place where real New Yorkers are clamoring to get inside. I mean, Bed? A little gimmicky, don’t you think? And I love my friends and I think they are great, but I’m not a member of the “glitteratti” and neither are they. If two gals from Texas on their second trip to NYC are chosen to move beyond the velvet rope, then I’m tempted to say that the “exclusivity” is a facade, or is artificially created in order to skew the pussy ratio inside the club.

Oh, what am I saying? I’m just totally jealous that I’ve never been to Bed.

Miranda says she was wearing her skinny jeans the last time she smoked pot, which would have been in the 80s, but she smoked pot with Carrie and Samantha in Hot Child in the City.

“Carrie, don’t Bogart this split,” — awesome.

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