My relationship with Mr. Big started in the kitchen. I hated him. Well, not him personally, but the whole idea of Sex in the City. It was the year 2000. I was living in St. Petersburg and considered the fact that they broadcasted the word ‘sex’ on national television right after the evening news the last step in moral degradation.
Several years later, my sister came to visit us in the US. On a road trip up the Highway 1 in California, we were looking for a place to spend the night. This was before having an Orbitz app on my phone. We started with Holiday Inns and Best Westerns and soon discovered that they were full and what was even sadder, way out of our price range. Mentally preparing to spend the night in the car, we came across a motel that had a room under $100 but it was the kind of place where you slept with your wallet under your pillow. We checked in anyway and stuck a chair under the door handle. The idea was that even though it wouldn’t stop an intruder, it might buy us a couple of extra seconds to react.
That evening, since it was too scary to outside, we turned on the TV with three channels and it just so happened that Sex and the City was on. I started to protest but it wasn’t exactly like there were a lot of options. By midnight it turned out that most the women’s issues that I had been trying to figure out on my own had been already deciphered and presented in a TV show. I watched the rest on demand when we got home.
A decade later, yesterday, I ran into Mr. Big at the JCK jewelry show. He was at one of the exhibits. He was there as himself, actor Chris Noth, and everything inside of me went back to those days at the hotel and across the world. It’s crazy how things work out sometimes.