Keeping it Epic

When taking in the SATC movie, the last thing you'd want to be part of is a cliched sundressed quartet click-clacking your way into the Boston Common theatre.  That was one of the excuses bandied about as four of us sat on the city sidewalk, conjuring some epic and soaking up the late day sun with al fresco cocktails.  Should we scrap the 4:55 movie all together and just plant it right where we were until our 8 p.m. dinner reservation? It was tempting. At 5:05,  we decided we'd better woman up and get ourselves to the movie, lest dinner -- this month's Suppah Club -- become an event, a vodka-drenched one on an empty stomach with shoes gone missing.  A very good call.  So, we saw the movie, which was what we expected -- four episodes in a row, meow, meow, meow. However, it sort of brought everyone down a bit, which was very unexpected. We slogged off to Ivy in a haze and were seated next to a bachelorette party with a giant inflatable pink penis (that had a face) as a centerpiece. Needless to say, it took awhile for our somber waiter to deliver the dirties.  From thereon -- all hopped up on olive juice -- it went all heroic and silly around the edges.  For whatever reason (maybe b/c of the neighboring inflatable and the fact that I possessed a video) there was an engaging discussion about this thing.  Absolutely mesmerizing.  The South Shore's proverbial American Beauty plastic bag.