The 39-Step Guide to Netflix and Chill.

Words by Hannah Whitfield.

Alrighty, so we’re all familiar with the concept of Netflix and Chill.

But what truly happens when two slightly awkward people who are kind-of-maybe-sort-of-dating go from the ‘Netflix’ bit to the, uhhhhhh, ‘Chill’ part? Let me demonstrate, using my own awkward N&C experience.

The magic all happened in these 39 steps:

  1. Arrive at Bernard*’s house.
  2. Spend a suspiciously short amount of time chatting with Bernard’s flatmates before both getting up in unison and shuffling to zee bedroom.
    wink gif
  3. Awkwardly remove shoes.
  4. Both sit/slouch on bed. Not committing to the full lie down just yet, so awkwardly settle for the ‘in between’. Aaaand my back hurts.
  5. Spend a lot of time choosing the film, with lots of ‘I really don’t mind but like I have already seen this and this and this’ and ‘this one’s meant to be shit’.
  6. Settle on Inception. Bernard has already seen it but claims he is happy to see it again. Cool.
  7. Bernard reveals that his laptop speakers don’t work so we will have to use headphones.
  8. Internally paralyzed by fear of leaving earwax on Bernard’s headphones.
    GIPHY (7)
  9. Full of regret for not bringing own laptop.
  10. A lot of volume adjustment. Assume Bernard is partially deaf.
  11. Worry about possibility of tinnitus for approximately next 10 minutes, thus missing vital early information in film.
  12. A dream within a dream within a… wait, what… I am so confused. SO confused.
  13. Share the only pillow, facing inwards (heads as far apart as possible, naturally) with the laptop inbetween us.
  14. Inception is actually a wonderful film. Leonardo di Caprio is wonderful.
  15. Forget where I am entirely, daydream about Leonardo di Caprio and our future family.
    GIPHY (11)
  16. Sit up to take sweater off.
  17. Lie back down and smack head on Bernard’s elbow. He had obviously taken this moment as his opportunity to get a bit ‘snugglier’.
  18. Both apologise profusely, despite clearly being only Bernard’s fault. Head now hurts quite a lot.
  19. Enjoy snuggling. Enjoy film. Feel happy. Could stay like this forever and ever. Just me and my man Leona– I mean Bernard. Definitely Bernard.
    GIPHY (6)
  20. Bernard reshuffles to spoon me, then puts his head ON my head.
  21. My head is a sandwich filling. What in god’s name is going on here.
  22. Ok, so heads are heavy. VERY heavy. You try and pick up a head, go on.
  23. Earphone has fallen out but don’t want to disturb attempt at cuteness so say nothing.
  24. Resign myself to watching the film without sound and trying to improve my lip reading capabilities.
    GIPHY (10)
  25. Discover that (disturbingly) I can actually hear the film very well through Bernard’s head, if we both stay very still.
  26. Wonder about ear canals and just how much space brains really take up.
  27. Acutely aware of sound of own breathing throughout hellish head squashing experience.
    GIPHY (8)
  28. Meanwhile Inception is reaching it’s climax (waheyyy).
  29. Nope, this is not the time for wandering hands, Bernard, this is really not the time.
  30. Pretend to be oblivious and focus on poor Leo and the gang.
  31. ALL HE WANTS IS TO SEE HIS CHILDREN WHY IS THE WORLD SO COLD.
  32. Oh, hold up, neck kissing is occurring. Bernard pls the movie. Bernard. Pls.
    GIPHY (12)
  33. Film starts buffering and won’t stop.
  34. I wonder if boys can sever wifi connections with their willpower, and if this is what’s has happened here. Suspect it probably has.
  35. If Bernard’s not… restrained he’s so going to give me a hickey.
  36. Ok, yep, he has DEFINITELY just given me a hickey.
    GIPHY (5)
  37. Halp I have accidentally travelled back to 2009.
  38. Great, now I’ll have to wear a roll neck to work tomorrow and perish under the cruel sun.
  39. Damn you, Bernard, damn you and the power of your boyish charm…

So there you have it, our 39 step transition from ‘Netflixing’ to ‘Chilling’. Smoother than Drake singing Hotline Bling. Slathered in coconut oil. With freshly shaven legs.

*To protect the identity of my date, and for negligible added comedy value, I have replaced his real name with Bernard. Bernard is absolutely not his name. Honestly. Not. Not even a little bit.

This piece was written by Hannah Whitfield, a student from Cambridge, England, who is currently based in Barcelona (lucky gal). When Hannah isn’t devouring brunch, she’s having fun and writing words over at her own blog, Hanalogue, or taking some snazzy snaps on Insta.

Want to write for The 20s Diary? Email an article pitch to the20sdiary@gmail.com

Advertisements