I’m spoiler-proof. I can reread books and rewatch movies and still get caught up in the drama all over again. This is a good thing as I am also incurably nosey. I google movie endings, peek at my presents and occasionally flick ahead in books. To me, this is no big deal but to many people – including my partner – these are acts as deviant as those partaken in by the average NRL player and their dog.
I am aware that some people hate spoilers with the level of passion that Andrew Bolt reserves for the Greens. When Order of the Phoenix book was released in the Harry Potter series, many of my friends filled the internet with pleading not to be told which characted suffered a much pre-publicised death. (Thanks for telling everyone about that in advance, J.K. Way to ruin my internet for a month.) I’m not sure how we were meant to accomplish this. Some sort of collar pin to identify people who had actually finished the book, or perhaps nifty tattoos reading, “Damn you, foul drapery”? Still, we did our best not. Some of the same spoiler-hating friends avoided the internet for weeks in advance of the final book being released to avoid being spoiled.
Hell, some of them avoided the news and the internet to avoid being spoiled on the result of the Eurovision. (When is Australia finally going to get a team in there, by the way? With Azerbaijan and Israel getting their song on in recent years, surely it’s only a matter of time before the EBU expands far enough to let us in.)
I do try to respect my spoiler-hating friends’ wishes and not accidently yell out pivotal plot points three seconds before they happen, or to peer into a future they would rather keep under wraps. But this Christmas is testing that resolve. My present is wrapped and waiting in the living room and I am currently engaged in a mighty struggle with my conscience not to peek at it.
This is not my choice – I would have happily seen it as soon as it was bought and still enjoyed the unwrapping on the day. Not so for my partner, who insists the surprise is part of the fun. Desperate to wrap my gift without me seeing it, last night he locked me out of the bedroom and set to rendering it unspoilable, accompanied by rustling noises, the schwip of Sellotape and no small amount of banging.
Now, for someone as nosey as me, this is a form of torture even if he was clearly doing it for my benefit. Obviously the only mature response was to grab the last bottle of ginger beer from the fridge and swig it at the door, all the while shouting, “Mmm, yummy cold ginger beer. NONE FOR YOU THIS CHRISTMAS.” in at him.
Let no one say I don’t get into the Christmas spirit
But my partner dislikes spoilers – he wants to get to the ending and find out what happens then, or unwrap the gift and be surprised. My habit of present-peeping is as deranged to him as flicking ahead while reading a book.
Which I also do.
To his books.
When he hasn’t finished them yet.
…maybe he has a point on that one.
So, I’m sitting here trying to ignore the present in the corner. To peep or not to peep? To spoil or leave until the day? What would you do?