Getting Some on The Sly

In other words, on the continuum of Netflix cheating, Cuthbert is Bill Clinton.

What does it signify, this cheating? Is it simply the fulfillment of a voyeuristic need? The desire for immediate gratification combined with -- Honey, I swear it meant nothing-- a lonely night when the cable's on the fritz and there's nothing to watch but reruns of "Yes, Dear"?

That's what Darryl Etter says. The clinical research assistant at Rhode Island Hospital in Providence sometimes sneaks DVDs out of the house before his girlfriend, Kelly Boyle, even knows they've arrived, watching them on his office computer. His work gets slow during the day, he says. He's not doing it to hurt Kelly. It's not even about her. If the movie's good, he'll happily watch it again that night. So what's the big deal?

The big deal, of course, is that watching something again is not the same as watching it with new eyes. The big deal is that "Norbit" is really only funny the first time, "Saw III" is really only scary the first time and once you know that Kevin Spacey is Keyser Soze, "The Usual Suspects" loses its luster. No one wants to be the half of the couple idiotically speculating aloud over the contents of the hatch on "Lost" ("Is it a worm hole? I bet it's a worm hole") when one's partner has already seen a Desmond flashback.

The big deal is Movie Virginity. With each movie, it can only be lost once, people, only once.

But the big, as in "symbolic," deal ensconced in Netflix cheating can vary from couple to couple.

"For me, it's about sacrifice," says Jamie Lewis, a Washington venture capitalist. "It hurts a little when [my partner] Matthew watches something we were supposed to watch together. If I think he'd want to see something, I'll wait, even if I was looking forward to it myself."

Interior designer Matthew Esposito's rationale that he only cheats when Lewis is out of town, that it doesn't make sense for shows to go unwatched just because his boyfriend isn't there to see them, doesn't fly with Lewis.

"It's not about being practical!" he says. "It's about the fact that it's important to me. Seriously, this is a metaphor for our relationship. If he wants something, I'll go to pretty far lengths to make it happen. It won't destroy him to not watch 'Heroes'!"

Cuthbert speculates that his girlfriend's annoyance has less to do with a passion for movies and more to do with a desire to share experiences: "It feels like I did something fun and fulfilling behind her back -- something she couldn't provide for me."

Self-gratification has always been a difficult area for couples to negotiate.

And the folks who work at Netflix are no help: When we phoned the nine-year-old company for guidance, one employee confided that she and her husband were in the process of a "Netflix divorce," separating their shared queue into two individual ones. She asked that we not use her name because "it's a sore spot in our marriage."