If there’s one thing Sex and the City taught us, it’s that no situation, no matter how terrible, can’t be made better by a group of girlfriends sharing a great cosmo. Cocktails were just as important as orgasms on the HBO drama (which can be streamed anytime on HBO Now). And that’s really saying something. From lamenting bad breakups to celebrating fulfilling hookups, pondering their romantic futures and toasting to their great loves – shoes, shopping, and each other – Miranda (Cynthia Nixon), Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), Charlotte (Kristin Davis), and Samantha (Kim Cattrall) never missed a chance to knock back their signature drink.
Finding three best friends who stick by your side through illness, messy divorces, babies, and brief love affairs with older men that drag you halfway across the world is one of life’s greatest challenges. That kind of loyalty takes time to nurture and grow, but there’s one ride-or-die that’s easier to come by.
Here are five Sex and the City lines that prove there’s no better friend than booze.
“Hello, I’m drunk.” – Miranda
Every socially awkward person knows that one of alcohol’s greatest superpowers is the ability to quickly and painlessly break the ice. It’s the social lubricant guaranteed to make you have a good time. When Carrie drags the girls to Staten Island, of all places, so that she can judge a sexy fireman competition, their normal order — a Cosmopolitan — isn’t on the menu, but they find a way to get mind-numbingly drunk and pole dance on the ferry ride home thanks to the garbage can of boozy cocktails — a Staten Island iced tea. You should probably order that the next time you’re packed on a sweaty dance floor with people who don’t know how to pronounce their R’s and A’s properly.
“The truth was, vodka was my only ally.” – Carrie
When you’re stuck in the middle of a friend’s marital strife, when your sex partner is a bit too verbose in bed, or when your boyfriend’s micro-penis means you have to endure couple’s counseling, the only reliable thing in your life might just be a nice vodka on the rocks. It’s what Carrie turned to when that selfish, narcissistic prick Mr. Big (Chris Noth) decided to send her roses on her birthday, blamed the thoughtful gift on his secretary, then announced he was bringing a date to Carrie’s Moroccan dinner party. Sure, that “date” ended up being a business partner, not a leggy brunette, but even if the a**hole had shown up with some arm candy, Carrie would’ve had vodka to dull the sting and keep her company because vodka is the only real thing any of us can count on.
“I’m not drunk, I’m sedated for my pain.” – Carrie
Running into your ex on the streets of New York when you look like total sh*t is one landmine you should definitely avoid in life. But, if it happens, the only way to save your self-esteem is with red solo cups, questionably edible hot dogs, and hot baseball players in tight pants. A New York Yankees game was the tonic Carrie needed to help get over Big, but it was alcohol that helped soothe the pain long enough for her to shamelessly flirt with a professional athlete and score a date to a fashion show. Who needs prescription drugs when cheap beer is around.
“I’d like a cheeseburger, large fries, and a cosmopolitan.” – Carrie
Nothing soothes the soul quite like greasy fast food. It’s the perfect cure for breakup blues or killer hangovers, but it’s the great travesty of our lifetime that big chains like McDonalds and Burger King haven’t clued into the fact that a soda isn’t always an adult’s drink of choice.
Fact: nothing goes better with a cheeseburger and fries than a cosmo. I don’t care how many times you have to pull a Carrie; order it through the drive through window, and then deal with strange looks from angst-ridden, pimple-marked teenagers. You keep fighting for your right to have liquor with your junk food, because this is America, dammit.
“You brought a pregnant woman a bottle of scotch?” – Carrie
“The invitation said BYOB.” – Samantha
“That meant bring your own baby.” – Miranda
Baby showers are the bane of a single woman’s existence. Congratulations, you’re currently incubating a lifeform who will destroy your body, cause you to lose your mind, and take all of your money as they slobber and poop their way to adulthood. That doesn’t warrant a party or an expensive gift. Of course, no decent person is allowed to say this, so when your wild friend from college invites you to her baby welcoming soiree, you go. But you go with alcohol.
The acronym BYOB isn’t a pass to bring your favorite liquor when it comes to these maternal cult gatherings, but who says a good bottle of scotch doesn’t qualify as someone’s baby? The unconditional love Samantha has for fine spirits is just as strong as any bond between mother and child. Does anyone dare challenge that assertion?