Tuesday, September 08, 2009

Sex and the Hamptons

What is it about coming back to New York City for the beginning of fall that always makes me fall in love again with the city? I spent this Labor Day weekend in the Hamptons and the time away from the island of Manhattan left me so dreary that even the sight of the new season's Dolce and Gabbana Suede Portrait pumps in the window at Bergdorf's couldn't deliver me from my despondence.

It was the typical Hamptons mix: 150 single women, 180 single men, and nobody getting enough sex. The weekend was not without its episodic adventures. During the getaway with the girls, Charlotte was dating and fellating a man who had 'funky spunk,' we tried to help Miranda decide whether her boyfriend was a gay straight man or a straight gay man, and Samantha contracted the AIDS virus. As for me, let's just say that frolicking on the beach with the bold and the beautiful of the Empire State is all fun and games until you see Junior Miss Bold and Beautiful frolicking in the sand with the man who broke your heart. According to Clarke's Third Law, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. I couldn't help but wonder-- Is real love so advanced that it's elegance in the extreme or it all just an illusion?

Passing back over the East River though, I came to a realization. If it's true that everyone gets one true love in their life, then maybe mine is New York City. After all, the city that never sleeps is also the city that never sleeps with anybody else. It's given me everything I've ever wanted or needed-- adventure, career, piece of mind, a rent-controlled brownstone, and my three best friends. It's home. And home is really just nothing more than the place you keep your shoe closet.

1 Comments:

At 8:24 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I like the reference to Arthur C. Clarke. TA

 

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