Posts Tagged ‘On Location Tours’

ALMOST CARRIE ~ In Common

Friday, February 10th, 2012

For every tourist who pukes on my bus (Almost Carrie, 1.27.12), there is another who is a true delight. After seven years of tours and 55 people per bus, the faces blur, but I do maintain a small collection of favorites. And despite the obvious frivolity of my job, there are still moments when I pause, struck by some strange and wonderful sampling of unfettered humanity that Sex and the City seems to unearth.

There was once a couple that got engaged during my tour—the woman in shock, the man down on one knee in front of “Carrie’s” stoop.  It didn’t matter that I would never want that kind of proposal; once I was there, witnessing the moment, all judgement evaporated.  The joy I felt—that all 55 of us felt—was palpable, and the tears and grins and toasts we shared were as full and genuine as if we were family.

There was the lady who took me aside to tell me that Sex and the City got her through chemo, and I could tell by her expression that she was not exaggerating, that she had needed something to cling to and Sex and the City, thankfully, had been it. There we were at Oneails Bar—pink drinks in hand—talking about her cancer as if we were the only two people on earth.

Then there was the girl who, through some cruel twist of nature, had been born with no feet, yet loved Sex and the City and its extravagant shoes every bit as much as the rest of us. She sighed gently when the bus driver asked if she wouldn’t mind walking to her seat when the handicapped lift got stuck, and later, when he got it straightened out, she waited patiently for it to croak up and down at every stop.

Recently, in the slow winter months, with the weather raw and my buses only half-full, I’ve gotten the chance to spend more time with individual tourists. One woman, Tracey, asked if I’d pose for a picture with her—which many people do—but she was the first person in seven years to later email me the shot:

And two weeks later there was Shamika, a girl so charismatic that she arranged a portrait for the entire group. We were only 15 that day, a tiny showing. Fifteen strangers from all over the world, driving around New York on a bus, with only one thing in common. Somehow, though, that one thing was enough.

Emily Sproch is a writer and a Sex and the City tour guide. Each Friday, she chronicles the fine line between reality and fiction in her column “Almost Carrie.”

ALMOST CARRIE ~ It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane…

Friday, December 16th, 2011

There comes a time in the life of every serious Sex and the City tour guide when she’s forced to contemplate her field’s most insurmountable theoretical quandary: What is your favorite episode?

My answer is as complicated as anyone’s, but when I’m in a pressure situation I’ve always relied on one response: “Hot Child in the City” (Season 3, Episode 15).  “Hot Child” takes the viewer on a journey through the lingering adolescence that exists within every adult as Carrie dates the emotionally stunted comic book artist Wade Adams, a man who lives with his parents and has a superhero alter ego named Power Lad.  SATC was getting a whole lot of flack during those early seasons from critics who thought the show amounted to little more than four grown women dressing and acting like teenagers;  ”Hot Child” tackles the issue and turns the criticism on its head.   Plus, at the end of the episode Carrie and Power Lad get high on Canadian Supergrass (“6 times stronger than pot”), and Sarah Jessica parker just nails it.  It’s a cold soul who doesn’t find her laughter infectious in that scene.

High up on Power Lad's terrace.

Now here’s the weird overlap between life as a real New Yorker and life as a guide for a fictional show.  One day this past summer, my bus pulled up to its usual parking spot by Onieals, while I prepared to usher 55 tourists through the door for Cosmopolitans.  I have been taking tourists to Onieals without incident for seven years (it doubled as Steve and Aiden’s bar Scout), but on this particular afternoon, a staff member intercepted me with some surprising news: “There’s a guy sitting at the bar with his friends.  He was part of the show, played some kind of comic book guy, and he has no idea that 55 fans are about walk in.  I thought I should warn you.”

“You mean Power Lad?”  I asked. “I’m on it.”

I zeroed in on him immediately and draped my arm around his shoulders like we were old pals.  “Listen,” I said, “I have 55 die-hard Sex and the City fans behind me.  They’ve come from all over the world.  Would you mind terribly if I made a big deal about the fact that you are here?”

Power Lad (who is actually a man by the name of Cane Peterson and works mostly in radio) was bewildered, unaware that Onieals was a location on Sex and the City, unaware that there was any such a thing as a Sex and the City tour, unaware that his friends had set him up, bringing him in at that time of day and knowing full well that mayhem would ensue.   But Power Lad took it like a champ.  He posed for pictures and flirted and later confessed to me as I was ushering everyone back outside that it was the best ego boost he’d had in years.

That’s the thing about New York—sometimes, in the middle of your workday and without the aid of anything from Canada, you catch a fleeting glimpse of your favorite superhero.

 

Emily Sproch is a writer and a Sex and the City tour guide.  Each Friday, she chronicles the fine line between reality and fiction in her column “Almost Carrie.”

 

ALMOST CARRIE ~ Glitterati in the ClockTower

Thursday, December 8th, 2011

Last Thursday night, my husband and I went to a party that Esquire Magazine* hosted at a 23.5 million dollar apartment.  The apartment, known as the ClockTower Penthouse, is a triplex in DUMBO, Brooklyn, and is the most expensive piece of real estate in the borough.  The main floor features four enormous working glass clock faces which also serve as windows and provide 360 degree views of the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges and the city skyline.  Other special touches include the private massage room off the home gym and the skylight over the bathtub. Guests were encouraged to mingle throughout the entire space, moving between floors via the floating staircase or the glass elevator, your choice.  There were security guards in headsets, cocktail waiters pouring signature espresso martinis, and a surprise performance by Sara Bareilles (who, I must admit, I had never heard of, but I recognized the “I’m not gonna write you a love song…” refrain right away).  Two different women were wearing these:

They are Charlotte Olympia satin platform pumps, and they retail for $845.  It was (need I say it?) an Almost Carrie night.

How on earth did we get in to such a party?  Is it possible that Esquire finally discovered a certain smart, sassy New York columnist who writes about life in the SATC industry fast lane?Does this mean that Almost Carrie will soon be featured on the side of a bus?  Or did my mother-in-law win two tickets in a raffle at a charity 5K** in Merrick, Long Island and then pass them along to us because she was busy celebrating her granddaughter’s birthday in rural Virginia?

Believe whatever makes you happy.

The Kitchen

Stairs and Elevator

The View by the Baby Grand

* The Esquire party raised money for the organization City of Hope, which conducts cancer research and provides cancer care.  You can learn more about it HERE.

** The 5K benefited Forever 9: The Robbie Levine Foundation, which raises money to put defibrillators in public spaces.  To find out more, click HERE.

 

Emily Sproch is a writer and a Sex and the City tour guide.  Each Friday, she chronicles the fine line between reality and fiction in her column “Almost Carrie.”