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Sexts and the City: Seamen, 12 O'Clock! Anchors aweigh, children.

Sexts and the City: Seamen, 12 O'Clock! Anchors aweigh, children.

To celebrate the 20th anniversary of Sex and the City, our sex and relationships editor Carina Hsieh (who also lived like Carrie Bradshaw for a week) will write one column each day in the style of Our Lady of Manolos. We couldn't help but wonder: What would Carrie's beloved New York Star column look like in the age of Tinder and ghosting? It's hard to say, but Carina Bradshaw's got a few ideas. For her second column (read her first one here), Carina and a self-described Miranda see if Fleet Week is everything Carrie and company said it would be.

For one glorious week every year, sailors dock in New York's friendly harbors and also park their ships at our piers. It was during this special time that my friend Jiranda* and I, armed with the unrealistic expectation that only several rewatches of a 20-year-old show can bring, went traipsing through midtown in hopes of crashing a Fleet Week party.

"I'm not attracted to sailors," Jiranda told me. Her father had been in the Navy, so obviously, dating a sailor was off-limits. We all have daddy issues, but I told her that dealing with them by avoiding them like that isn't dealing with them at all. My father was also in the military, but we have so many other issues that the authority thing has never bothered me. Instead I like to spiral into deep depressive episodes every few years and air my personal laundry out for the whole world to read because someone was never proud enough of me.

Anyway, Jiranda was recently single and looking for a rebound. I'd met up with a few sailors for an interview earlier in the day, and when a few of them asked for my number and some good NYC recommendations, I took the bait, thinking this would be the perfect way to coax Jiranda out of her shell.

"I'd love to go!"