I bought us a subscription to Netflix. It was a great bonding premise, one of the rare insightful ideas my brother suggested. That way even though my lover lived on the opposite coast, Tony and I could stream movies simultaneously in our separate living rooms.
At first it was a little tough to find the time. An entire month flew by before we decided to try Wednesdays as our movie night. The first couple movies went great, well, sort of. I think he dozed during Moonstruck. Tony’s three hours ahead of me, so, I wasn’t too miffed.
Plus, Tony liked to comment during the movie. Said things like, “Why is she wearing lipstick at the gym?” or “A guy would never say that.” I tried to ignore him, but it was annoying.
Then we watched one of my favorite movies, Prince of Tides. I’d seen it gazillion times. And he wouldn’t shut up. I asked him to pause so we could talk. He just wanted to stop watching all together.
“It’s boring,” he complained.
I ignored him. “It’s like when I came to your family reunion last summer. I went, because you wanted me to.”
Tony said, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s called compromising. I wanted to share one of the best movies of all time with you. The least you could do is pretend you’re enjoying it.”
There was a long pause. “This is stupid. I don’t even like movies.”
“Well, I don’t like family reunions.”