Sex and THIS City?

by Lisbeth Eng

When I first moved from the hinterlands of Staten Island to the chic isle of Manhattan four years ago, one of my co-workers excitedly remarked, “Lisbeth will be the new Terry Bradshaw!” “Huh? Terry Bradshaw?” I replied, bewildered. What did she possibly think I could have in common with the bald football announcer? “Carrie Bradshaw!” she corrected with a laugh, and went on to explain her prediction that my new life as a Manhattan single woman would be as exhilarating, fashion-forward and sexcapade-filled as that of the fictional heroine I had barely heard of. Yes, that’s right, I have never watched even one episode of Sex and the City, nor either of the two movie versions, nor read Candace Bushnell’s book upon which the TV series was based.

I, a forty-something-year-old widow, am probably as un-Carrie-Bradshaw-like as a native New Yorker can be. I have lived in four of the five boroughs (alas, the Bronx will probably never enjoy the privilege of my residency), having spent the longest period, thirty-five years, in Staten Island, which, in case you were unaware, is part of New York City. It’s amusing that transplanted mid-westerners (among others) seem to think of themselves as more “New York” than those of us born and bred in the outer boroughs, simply because they have lived in Manhattan a few years and know all the “in” places to eat, drink, shop and pick up men. But I digress.

First a disclaimer: since I have never watched the TV show (or seen the movies or read the book) I am in no position to judge the lives of women who seem more interested in their Manolo Blahniks and cosmopolitans than in global warming or human rights abuses in Darfur. But I’ve really no right to make such a self-righteous comment. For all I know, Carrie and her friends may spend their free time volunteering at a local soup kitchen, and I’ll bet they donate last season’s Jimmy Choos to the Salvation Army so that the disadvantaged can get “back on their feet”, properly shod.

All right, perhaps I’m just jealous. I am seldom fashionably attired (for me, comfortable shoes trump high heels and pointy toes every time), and engaging members of opposite sex has always been a challenge for me, especially after I became single again at the age of forty-four. I live in one of the most exciting cities in the world – “the city that never sleeps.” Well, I sleep. Even on weekends I’m usually in bed by midnight. Nightlife? Does watching the eleven o’clock news count?

So how can a single gal living in New York City lead such a boring life? I don’t. There is more to this city than a quest for sex and cocktails. Besides world-famous museums, opera companies, orchestras, Broadway theater (not to mention off- and off-off-Broadway theater), there is a soul to this city that may not be obvious to the casual observer. An army of volunteers delivers meals to the homebound elderly and AIDS patients. Community gardeners beautify hidden corners of this concrete jungle. The socially conscious meet to strategize against pollution, political oppression, poverty and hopelessness. As for me, I enjoy the above mentioned museums, opera and theater, study foreign languages “just for fun”, volunteer for Amnesty International on behalf of prisoners of conscience and write romance fiction for self-fulfillment and for the remote possibility of selling the movie rights to my soon-to-be-published debut novel for a seven-figure sum.

Which brings us back to sex. And self-promotion. For sex and another city, how about Verona, Italy circa 1944 where a woman torn between two lovers, one her compatriot and the other her enemy, battles the Nazis? You can read about her (and her lovers) when my World War II romance novel, In the Arms of the Enemy, is released by The Wild Rose Press on October 1, 2010. In the meantime, please visit my website at www.lisbetheng.com for a preview.

BIO: Lisbeth Eng is a romance author and financial services representative (that’s how the rent gets paid) who inhabits the lovely island of Manhattan where she continues her search for spiritual awakening, inspiration, the meaning of life and yes, well… ahem…sex. Visit her at www.lisbetheng.com.