Probably the worst thing about the Friends legacy, and simultaneously the reason why it continues to do so well, is that it sells an ideal that seems attainable - especially since it is being lived by a collection of fools and failures (until the last season at least) - but which is basically the Matrix in terms of how achievable it actually is. No matter how poor their jobs - roller-skating waitress, bad coffee waitress, bad coffee waiter with no tips and docked pay, advertising intern, masseuse, unemployed - they can all afford to live in the middle of the city, in large, well-maintained apartments, and only Joey ever struggles with money (but it's fine because Chandler has no qualms with being his personal bank). They have a steady string of sexual partners, their various dysfunctions never have lasting effects on their demeanour, and worst of all, they spend endless hours in the best seats in a coffee shop in the middle of the day without ever losing their jobs. These people are beautiful lies, living in a Utopia so unreal that it has led to some suggestions that all of the Friends cast are in fact patients in a mental asylum, suffering from various individual conditions and a collected delusion that they have perfect lives in New York.
