The Netflix binge is a millennial epidemic. It strikes post-brunch - if you even make it out the door for brunch - or one evening while you and your friend(s) debate what you can do that doesn't involve tipping a bartender. Or you're already laying by the TV waiting for Domino's cheesy bread to be delivered. You spend thirty minutes scrolling through the buffet of options ("I haven't even heard of that" or "Go back, what's that about?") until you both squeal at some show you've wanted to see - or maybe they've seen an episode already, but let's now embark on this together.
You're only past the opening credits when the cheesy bread arrives. And once you eat the cheesy bread, you either rewind or pause to catch up because neither of you knows what's going on.
You will stay on that couch for the next two to 24 hours. When you break, it is because one of you has to go to work or a family emergency arises. Sleep is never cited. And before you part, you sign on the dotted line that you will pick the show back up in nine hours once you're both home again.
"Wait, I may go to the gym after work," someone whines, then retracts: "I guess I'll skip it."
Even if you make the wrong selection, you can't escape. One time I persuaded my friends to watch The Savages. I told them it was an "intelligent dark comedy," because I had read the reviews. (We're not talking the sex and drugs Savages movie; this one starred the late Philip Seymour Hoffman and Laura Linney - serious actors.) "Depressing comedy" may have been a better descriptor:
Anyway, after we moped through a film about emotionally distant siblings dealing with their dying father's dementia (a little too close to home personally), we watched Parks and Recreation. For two hours.
Personally I don't have a Netflix account because I am a millennial and believe everything should be free. Napster paved the way for this line of thought pre-Y2K. I also rarely watch TV due to traumatic experiences with my freshman year roommate. Since that time, I have avoided activities that revolve around flat screen devices. Yet, thankfully, my friends have a '90s TV aka not a flat screen: A loophole! Thus, in the past year I have managed to binge on both Bates Motel and American Horror Story.
However, this has led to some treachery. Coming in my next post: The Netflix Betrayals. Stay tuned.