Dating is fine and all, but once I got a Netflix account, I kinda realized that looking for love was a little overrated. Here’s why I’d much rather spend a Friday night streaming my heart out than going out with a guy I’ll probably never see again.
Netflix adapts to my moods effortlessly. I’m a complex woman who has complex desires, which means sometimes I’m in the mood to laugh, other times I need a good cry, and still others I feel up for an adventure. Netflix has programming that helps me out on all fronts; guys, on the other hand, aren’t usually as flexible with suiting my every whim. Not their fault, but an unfortunate design flaw, I think.
A Netflix membership is cheaper than a night out with a dude I probably won’t even like. For $10.99 a month, I can watch whatever I want, whenever I want, as many times as I want on Netflix. For that same amount, I can probably get 1.5 mediocre cocktails at a seedy bar with a guy who either just wants to get laid or who insults me by telling me I don’t look like my Tinder pic. I think I know which I’ll choose.
Netflix never gets handsy when I’m trying to pay attention to what I’m watching. When I’m trying to see if Gurki is going to punch the jerk who’s grilling her about marriage in the face on Dating Around, I don’t need a guy slowly moving his hand up my thigh or reaching down for my boob when his arm’s around me. I’m trying to watch, thanks! Netflix lets me do that in peace, no questions asked.
Netflix cares if I’m still there. Netflix doesn’t tune me out after a while, focusing on its phone or video games or whatever. In fact, it checks in with me regularly to make sure I’m still watching. It’s nice to feel like an active part of the relationship instead of something that’s just there.
Netflix is cool if I just want to sleep when I get into bed. When I start yawning around 10 p.m. but I really want to get through this episode of Riverdale, Netflix is happy to move to the bedroom and doesn’t automatically assume that means I want to have sex. In fact, it’s pretty much understood that I just want to see what’s going to happen with Archie and Veronica and it’s happy to oblige.
Netflix doesn’t think I’m crazy if I start screaming at it out of nowhere. Seriously, HOW did the parents on Abducted in Plain Sight let their daughter get kidnapped once, let alone twice?! Why was the dad giving B handjobs? Why was the mom sleeping with him? Did Jan seriously believe aliens were behind all of this?! WHAT IS GOING ON? Thankfully, Netflix remains a judgment-free zone when I lose my cool about something totally random. Guys find it a little harder to roll with the punches.
Netflix always shows up on time. When I want to see Netflix, it’s available. It doesn’t tell me it’s “super busy this week” but suggest maybe it can stop by at 11:30 p.m. on a Tuesday night “just to hang” when really it wants to get laid. Nope—Netflix and I have a 6 p.m. date on Saturday night and I don’t even have to change out of my pajamas for it. Sounds good to me.
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