Oh, Netflix.
You were the one.
You were the scrappy upstart, the daring pioneer, the one who put established movies, TV shows, and unique content together, showing me that life without cable didn’t have to be all about streaming movies and shows off of dicey websites and downloading files under threat of jail and insidious malware.
You were the one. I went legit for you.
And you delivered. Some of my happiest times were spent on the couch with you and take-out food. We were good together, you and I. We were happy in each other’s company. You were a part of me, knowing what I wanted before I did, keeping a list for me. You never forgot anything, and were always solicitous, suggesting things I might want to see based on something I’d already seen before. We were perfect. We were beautiful.
Netflix, I’m leaving you.
It’s all the comedy specials I don’t think I’ll ever find the time to see.
It’s my dwindling attention span.
It’s the suggestions that make no sense.
It’s the enthusiasm for auto-play, which I didn’t mind at first, but slowly began to resent.
It’s not you, it’s me.
It’s inflation.
It’s the unjustifiable price increase.
Netflix, you put She-ra in shorts. Shorts.
It’s not me, it’s you.
It’s both of us.
Netflix, I’m leaving you. I’m leaving you for Crave. Crave has HBO, and movies I want to see. Movies I want to see right now, anyway.
Thanks for the memories, Netflix. Le Hubs thanks you for the complete seasons of X-files (before you pulled it), and the complete seasons of The Office. I thank you for all the seasons of House, M.D. (that I never got around to watching again, damnit), the first three seasons of Orange is the New Black, the awesomeness that used to be House of Cards, the first season of Daredevil, the gloriousness that is The Crown, and finally, for introducing Jo Koy to the world.
In closing, we both thank you for Black Mirror and Stranger Things. It’s been fun, and a helluva lot of bandwidth. I have no regrets.
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Author’s Twitter: @nikkajow
