As the last few posts have led friends and readers to question whether I’m losing my sanity, or at least my asshole edge, I should add briefly that, despite any of many upsides to this girl and her friends, last night also did leave me feeling even deeper entrenched in a ten-years-younger reenactment of a Sex and the City episode.

Which is, perhaps, unavoidable if the girl you’re dating is paid by an online magazine to write (in great detail) about her dating life, but even moreso if, when you meet her closest friends, you discover that they consist of a confident go-getting Samantha, a shy, conservative Charlotte (who, in at least one photo snapped late in the evening, rather strikingly resembles Kristin Davis), and a cynical gay best-friend Stanford (who, fortunately for the real life version, is far better looking than the television equivalent).

I suppose that, in turn, makes me rather inevitable; every Sex-in-the-City story needs an (interested yet historically completely emotionally unavailable) Mr. Big.