Poor Willow

“Willow’s gonna die!”

Said to certain friends of mine, with just the right inflection, those words contain the ability to induce immediate laughter and reminiscing in a few of my friends. And possibly a little bit of shame. Or a lot of shame.

Back in the day, when I was still in high school, my summer activities included a weekly viewing of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. With church friends. It was awesome.

I believe that was also the summer somebody got a hold of a bedazzler. But that’s another story.

That’s right. I was one of THOSE PEOPLE. I pretended to be above it all, an ironic fan, but the reality was that I loved it. Every week, when poor Willow was about to be beaten, slayed, kidnapped, duped, or abused, it was inevitable that I or one of my comrades would be forced to utter, “Willow’s gonna die!” You’d think you’d become immune to the danger. I am here to tell you, you don’t.

I don’t know if it’s because the Disney Channel is celebrating Wiz-Tober and spooky things, or I just had a random thought that became an inclination, that became a determination, but this weekend I determined that I would rent Season 1 of Buffy. I mean, I could have netflixed it, but there’s no insta-gratification with that. So I went to the two movie rental joints in my small town of Suburbia, but it was a no-go. And then I was possessed with a thought. Wal-Mart might have it. I set a spending limit (and it was decently low). My hopes were almost dashed when I saw only Seasons 6 and 7. I didn’t want those seasons, I wanted the first one.

Alas! I finally came upon it, and it included a delightful surprise. It, and season 1 of Angel—that spinoff with the dreamy David Boreanaz—were a package deal. . . and still within my aforementioned spending limit!! Needless to say, being a lowly federal employee enjoying Columbus Day weekend, I watched all 12 episodes. That’s right. All 12. And even as I knew that Willow would live on to be Buffy’s friend another day, I couldn’t help the rising fear, the inevitable exclamation, “Willow’s gonna die!” I also couldn't stop the embarrassment that I still kind of love that show.

My father was pseudo-appalled that I got to enjoy the day off at the taxpayers’ expense. I threw his five (5!) weeks of vacation in his face. Then he threw his 21 years to earn them back in mine. So I called it a draw, and continued to lay on my couch and enjoy my purchase.

I probably should have been productive or something, but I wasn’t. Well, I take that back. I did manage to clean my apartment, which was a quite a feat. But other than that, I spent most of my time reminiscing and fearing for poor Willow’s life. If/when I’m not a federal employee anymore, I’m going to miss these moments.