One day, I was walking down the street when the voice of a stranger caught my ear. “Aye red shirt, let me get your number,” he said. I quickly ran over to him because it was the most inviting pick up line I had heard in years. A real gentleman. We talked for a little bit, and then we exchanged numbers. We began talking for several weeks, and, although he seemed interested, he had yet to ask me out on a date.
I told myself that I could not let my Prince Charming get away. So, on a Friday night with nothing to do, I sent him that good old “What’s up” text. I laid in bed, anticipating his reply. As my phone screen lit up, I grabbed my phone and read a text that said, “Nothing much. What you doing tonight.” Trying to keep it cool, I replied “Nothing. Chillin.’” He responded with, “Come over. Let’s watch Netflix and chill,” and in that moment, I knew he was the one. It was like he spoke his vows to me. More romantic than going out somewhere in the daylight or dressing up. I quickly put on my “I-didn’t-even-try-but-I’m-still-cute” clothes and headed over. As I arrived to his house, he opened the door in full Netflix and chill attire: basketball shorts and a T-shirt. The epitome of a perfect spouse.
Bypassing the living room, kitchen and every couch, he took me straight to his room. No offer of food or a beverage ― we wouldn’t want to interrupt the Netflix and chill routine we already had on the schedule. Entering the room, the bed was already unmade, and there was a spot with my name on it. If you’ve mastered the art of Netflix and chill, then you know you have to play timid at first, so I sat on the edge of the bed.
While watching this grown man set up his Xbox to connect to his Netflix account, all I could think is “Videogames. How attractive.” He turned the game console on and handed me the controller. “Pick a movie,” he said. I instantly scrolled to the horror film section, and he smiled. Can you say brownie points?
I had to play “Saw,” a movie that doesn’t make me scared, just so we both could pretend to be a little frightened, and I could play damsel in distress. At the gruesome parts of the movie, I jumped and leaned onto his arm in pretend-fear. Each scene, I somehow ended up further and further from my original position at the end of the bed. Before I knew it, I was splat in the middle, right next to him. I have no idea what happened in the movie; I couldn’t focus on the screen in between his hint dropping and smooth talking. Before I knew it, the movie was watching us.
Mission accomplished. The Netflix gods roared as yet another score took place. So there you have it. That’s where babies come from. A stork drops a Netflix account into some guy’s house, and women flock to his nest in hopes to chill, but sometimes they get chill-dren. I was a lucky survivor.
