Him
“This is very cool!” I said. “I bet it cost you a lot.”
“It would be fair to say that I’m considerably less rich due to these acquisitions,” Nat replied with a touch of embarrassment. “However, I don’t regret a thing. I love having them on display. I love having the ability to just pick one up, pop it in the player and watch it, you know? They’re always there if I want them.”
“It’s really impressive,” I added.
First time checking out her studio apartament - the Criterion DVD/Blu-Ray collection had immediately caught my eye. It was so big, she had them on display on two different display shelfs. And they were so neat-looking, organized by year, each one in its individual sleeve that, I suddenly felt the urge to grab one, pop it in the player, sit down and watch it. There was at least 200 of them (258, as I was going to find out later on when we decided to move in together).
Nat was still in bed, watching me carefully around her treasure.
“Are you going to ask me about streaming?”
I turned around at her:
“Should I ask about streaming?”
“If you want to,” she shrugged. “People usually do.”
“Do you want me to ask you?”
“You’re infuriating,” she giggled.
“Ok, I’ll bite. Natalie? Why not just stream all this stuff?”
“I’m glad you asked, James,” she began as she got out of bed. I couldn’t help glancing at her. She was wearing this baggy Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of black panties. So casually sexy. “Streaming services are great. They’re convenient. Cheap?!”
She frowned at that idea. She was really cute, I swear. She continued:
“But unfortunately, there is no single service to rule them all. No single service to offer you everything you may want to, so you have to go for multiple subscriptions: you have your Netflix’s, your HBOs, your HULUs…”
“Don’t’ forget about CBS All Access!” I added. She laughed.
“So yeah, not THAT convenient. On top of that, films may not, and most of the times - will not stick forever on a particular streaming service due to…” she paused for dramatic effect – “licensing agreements!”
“Oh, no, not licensing agreements” I cried in jest.
“Oh yes, James! Licensing agreements or the bane of our existence and will forever be so under the rule of the corporate overlords. Our only chance is to buy them physically and own them forever in pretty shelfs like this one!”
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I applauded: “Bravo!”
She took a bow, smiling. I took her in my arms and kissed her:
“You are something, Natalie.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling.
“So can we watch one right now?” I asked.
“Now-now?”
I shrugged: “Unless you need me to leave.”
Her face lit up. She took me by the hand to one of the shelfs.
“What would you like to see?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Never been into old films. I just never had the time to get into it, you know?”
“Leave that to me,” she said. She picked one case, opened it up, put the disc into the player and then dragged me back into bed.
**
Her
I remember that day. It was such a fun day.
So that at point, we had been on a couple of dates together. He was really charming. The beauty of it was that with every moment that we spent together, he seemed better and better. However, I was still hurt (more that I even cared to admit) by the whole ‘Nick’ business, that I found myself being more reserved and hesitant than usual. I was looking for all kinds of warning signals that would have made me go: “No way, he’s an asshole. Stay away.” But you could tell Jamie was special from the beginning.
Let me give you an example: whenever it seemed as if he would say something arrogant (thus triggering my signals) he would immediately follow up with a self-deprecating remark. It was as if he was trying to say: “I don’t take myself that seriously. You shouldn’t either.”
At the end of the second date, we both knew that we wanted to end up in bed. We picked my place, it was closer. The sex was a bit awkward. I think it always is, the first time around with someone new, but the potential was definitely there.
The next morning my paranoia emerged again. He was the first to wake up and I could feel him get up and walk around the apartment.
“Here we go,” I thought. “He got what he came for, he’s ready to leave. Maybe never to return.”
I hesitated between opening my eyes and confronting him or just pretend I’m sleeping and let him leave. Eventually, I opened my eyes. He was checking out my film collection. He looked really excited. See what I mean? He’d do something that would stir panic in me, only to surprise me with an entirely unexpected follow up.
He turned around. He could feel I was watching.
“This is very cool!” he said. “I bet it cost you a lot.”
All my doubts collapsed when a couple of minutes later he asked;
“So can we watch one right now?”
Unexpected, I know. Thinking back now, it really shouldn’t have been that unexpected but you have to understand - I was damaged. But this guy...
“Now-now?”
He shrugged: “Unless you want me to leave?”
This was not some guy. This was going to be MY guy.
“Of course not,” I said. “Yep, let’s hang out. What would you like to see?”
He had no idea. I got to pick. Big decision.
I grabbed the film, put it in the PlayStation and hit play.
A couple of moments later, the opening credits rolled: Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window.
We both relaxed and I eased into his arms.
“Oh, she’s pretty,” he whispered when Grace Kelly first made her entrance.
“Yep. She also gets to be a real badass later, you’ll see!”
“Love me some badass-es…”
“And her dresses in this film? They’re do die for.”
He glimpsed at me. He was excited to see me excited.
He ended up loving it. Of course, he did. I knew my stuff. I still do. We ordered some food and then spent the rest of the day having sex and watching films. And the next one too. Hitchcock films can get you a long way.
From that day on, he was my guy.