Atta J. Turk observes Popular Cul-cha

Via what I want to claim was the result of a lost bet, I went with a friend to see "Sex in the City" on Friday. I pretty much knew what I was in for, I'd flicked the remote past the show on occasion, waiting for someone (almost always Kim Cattrall) to be nekked. And from what I saw it's simply five episodes of the show in one movie, with resolutions for most of the story lines.

The worst part was the person I went with, a woman naturally, popped into the restroom while I got a seat in the front section of the theater -- as my friend took about 10 minutes in the "lady-can". In other words, I was a middle-aged man sitting all alone as the theater filled up with 200 other attendees (pretty good turn out for a middle of the afternoon show). Of the 200, 197 were women, 160 were middle aged. The three men, like me, had pathetic palpable faces of repaying the debt for getting their female friend/partner to go to 'The Departed' last year.

If Sex in the City had come out a few months ago, it would have been the perfect place to recruit Hillary Clinton campaign workers. Not that there's anything wrong with a female-buddy picture.

But as the minutes went by I was a man, sitting at the furthest seats up front that were occupied, and without a woman on my right-or-left.

I know it is completely my problem, but still, feeling your balls retreat into your body and push on your kidneys is a weird feeling.

Anyhoo, my favorite part was near the end when they were all run over by a taxi and died. Only their shoes survived.