And you know, now that I think of it, it wasn’t even ME who gave away the ending. It was the barista.
Anyway. Rewind to two years ago, the season 3 finale of Lost. Remember? Desmond kept trying to save Charlie, but no matter what he did . . . “You’re gonna die, Charlie.” And die he did, drowning to death in a sealed-off room in the Looking Glass station after Patchy exploded a grenade. See ya in another life, brotha.
THAT was Wednesday. Flash-forward to Sunday at Starbuck’s, where I’m having a friendly chat with one of the baristas. We have discussed Lost before.
“Did you see the finale?” I asked.
“YES! Do you think Charlie’s really dead?”
“Seems like it. Tho you never know . . .”
I was interrupted by a gasp so loud and forceful it blew the froth off of my latte.
“Oh. My. God. I, like, haven’t watched that episode yet.”
We turned to the scary-looking young woman who had made this announcement. Her expression was one of outraged disbelief.
We stared at her, waiting for her to crack a smile or laugh and say how stupid was SHE for going to a public place before she’d watched the Lost finale, but no. She was genuinely and palpably pissed.
“I cannot believe you just gave away the ending.”
We were still in shock at her reaction. How could she seriously be so mad? The barista stood there with her mouth hanging open, and I felt uncomfortable enough (and, for a few seconds, guilty enough) to try to make amends.
“Well, now, he’s probably not dead. You know how it is on Lost. Dead people pop back up all the time. Maybe he’ll be back as a ghost or something . . .”
She was having none of it. She paid for her coffee and left in a huff. Of course as soon as the door shut, the barista and I erupted into wild if somewhat nervous laughter.
Later, tho, I was kind of mad. Because here’s the thing: If you’re a big enough fan of ANY TV show to care that much, you DO NOT GO OUT. Get it? You don’t leave your house. You don’t turn on your TV, computer, radio. You don’t answer the phone. If you have to look out a window, keep your eyes toward the ground in case one of those airplane banners happens to be flying by. You buy earplugs to avoid hearing your neighbors talking about it. You don’t talk to anyone, you don’t look at anything, you don’t listen to anything.
You especially don’t go prancing into a Starbuck’s FOUR WHOLE DAYS AFTER THE SEASON FINALE where there might be even the most remote chance of coming across two women yammering about Lost.
Watch Charlie die here! (Warning: it’s real sad)