No sex in this city

Tommy my cat and I were so excited, it was the big day, tonight, Sex In The City, would open at the Bunker, our local cinema. It was only nine o'clock in the morning and already I had peed myself six times,twice before I even got out of bed.
It was a great day to be a woman, a great day to be feminine and I was both, I had a doctor's certificate and a charcoal drawing by the local peeping-tom to prove it.
Tonight, we would be treated to an extravanza of feminity, Tonight, hundreds of shrieking women, would enjoy the delights of-fashion, shoes, diets, shoes, leg-shaving, shoes, whispered thoughts on love and abortion, shoes, men,lesbians,shoes all wrapped up in a big, pink fluffy candy-floss. Tonight, four old raddled bags, long by their sell by date, would show us what it is to be a strong, confident woman, with a good psychiatrist and a rich sugar daddy.
I was all a flutter,with fierce feminity, "Shoes, shoes" I babbled, as I ran hither and nither, with hot urine running down my girlish leg
Suddenly, Tommy my cat, grabbed me by my maidenly goatee and yelled.
"Hauld on, hauld on, I won't get in, I am a male cat". I spun on a sixpence, danced on a penny and said, "But Tommy, think of how effete you are, no one will know, unless they lift you up and look under your tail". "I must see the film" screamed Tommy "I want to see the-shoes, so many-shoes in so many colours, I must see the-shoes".
I leapt up on a passing poof and roared, "You shall go to the ball, I shall dress you up as a little, fairy princess"
You should have seen us that nite, we certainly put the fem into feminity.
Tommy was wearing a lovely powder blue ball gown, silver tiara and clutching a vivid pink clutch purse. I was wearing pink shoes, pink tights, pink knickers and a pink boilersuit, with "Show me the shoes" written on the back. We turned some heads, as we staggered on our pink high-heels down the street, swinging our pink handbags and letting little feminine shrieks and yells out of us.
Soon we were sitting in the front seat of the cinema,with popcorn sitting between us. Since Mr Corn's wife died, he doesn't get out much, so me and Tommy take old Pop to the cinema, the bingo and the lap-dancing clubs. I looked around, all was a sea of pink, Women of every age, shape and state of decomposition and decay, sitting, open-mouthed, like a veritable gaggle of pink flamingos.
Then the film began, oh the ooh's and aah's as the shoes appeared. I was furiously writing down the names of the famous fashion designers on my hip with a felt tip pen.
Ah the beauty, the lively girlish banter, the rich meals, the phone calls, the never-ending round-a-bout of luxury, the whirlwind of parties, the, the, the empty sadness and futility of it all.
"THIS IS WRONG!" I yelled, jumping to my feet. "Is this what we ladies have sunk too? Where is your pride?" I yelled "Is this what womens lib was all about? Think of the great women who gave so much to set us free. Think of Emily Parkhurst, who chained herself to the railings like a veritable bicycle. Think of Gretna Green, Magna Carta, Ann Tique, Dana, Gloria Hunnyford, Ann Orexic, and the greatest woman of them all, big Maggie Dunder, who campaigned all her life, so that women should be allowed to pee standing up like men.
Wake up ladies" I yelled "There is more to life than-shoes".
We were lucky to get away with our lives, The angry women raced me, Tommy and old Pop Corn for five streets. Then old Pop Corn slipped into a pole-dancing joint and Tommy and I were chased home by a gang of United Arab Emerite sailors yelling, "Come here my pretty one, I buy you shoes-you like shoes-yes?
"Never again" I said to Tommy, as we sat down to a meal of larks' eggs and methelated spirits.
I think we can trace this femine shoe fetish back to Cinderella and what do they tie to wedding cars? YES, shoes!" This goes deep, very deep, I must wade into the pondering pond for some deep pondering, "Tommy, come out here and hold my-shoes, I don't want to get them wet"