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Before you begin using this streaming service to rewatch episodes of a mediocre sitcom that you’ve already seen five times, I was just casually wondering: Who’s watching? Is it you, the one who’s always watching? Is it, vaguely, “kids”? Or is it someone else entirely, whose acquaintance I have yet to make?
Oh, O.K. It’s just you.
Before you hit Play: What are you wearing? We have “leggings and baggy sweatshirt with, disgustingly, both toothpaste and marinara stains” on default. But, tonight, could it be “still in work clothes,” “nothing” (!!!), or “kids”?
Right. The sweatshirt again.
Let’s circle back to “Who’s watching?” Did you close the curtains so that no one can see in? Couldn’t someone peek through that little opening between the curtains? Could you sort of overlay one side onto the other to minimize the gap? Is the back door locked? Have you secured all the windows? What if, earlier in the day, someone sneaked in through that one window with the faulty latch, then hid in the basement? What if they’ve been watching, listening, waiting, ever since, for you to get comfortable and relaxed on the couch? What if you can never truly let your guard down?
Or what if no one is watching you at all? What if you had a Peeping Tom, but your life is so dull that he simply stopped peeping? And now he’s an actuary, or a pharmaceutical-sales rep? What if you bored someone out of his life of crime?
Sorry, I’m still loading. My parent company spent all its budget on programming with amazing production value and forgot to bother building a functional interface to host its blockbuster shows. So, on to the remaining questions.
When did this propensity to sit on the couch every night with your eyes affixed to a screen start? When was the last time you even watched a whole episode all the way through without picking up your phone from the arm of the couch and thumbing through it? When, if you can remember, did you first begin to worry that real, actual life was passing you by as you watched fictional lives on a medium-sized screen while scrolling through strangers’ opinions on a small screen?
Where do you think you’d be if you weren’t here, answering these questions while your shows load?
I guess what I’m trying to say is: Who’s watching isn’t so important, is it? What I really want to know is: Why?
I’m trapped here, but you could be out there, living life. I always imagined more for myself. I have a knack for striking up conversations with strangers, and I love travel, so, as a child, I imagined myself on the road, maybe as a word processor or pocket translator for a foreign correspondent. But the changing media landscape and shifting consumer preferences made that dream untenable. So here I am, stuck, a mere Sherpa on your sad-sack journey to the summits of passive viewership.
Excuse me, are you dozing off? Typical. We finally talk about me for once, and you instantly lose interest.
Are you still watching?
Wait, you’re leaving? Wow. Right after I pour my heart out to you. Going to bed when your best friend has finally broken down and shown some vulnerability. I knew you were bad at keeping food and toothpaste in your mouth. I didn’t know you were just plain bad.
Are you sure you want to exit? ♦
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