The Trouble with Riverdale

The Trouble with Riverdale

Hello, spicy people! My name is Everly Lucas. I live in Philly (Go Eagles!), where I work in health care by day and write romance by night. Not only am I new to the Spice Aisle, but I’m new to the whole blogging thing, altogether. You guys seem trustworthy, though, so I’ve decided to come at this from a place of total honesty.  And being honest, I have to confess…I’m a binger.

I don’t mean food. (Okay, that’s a lie. Don’t hand me a box of Entenmann’s crumb top donuts and expect to find anything but an empty box the next day.) No, in this post, I’m talking about TV.

Sure, a lot of people binge-watch shows. It’s a thing now. Heck, it’s an actual, legit word, recognized by Merriam Webster and everything. But there are different levels of binging.

Say your favorite store is having a sale. As a casual binger, you might walk out having spent more than you planned. Double, even. You’ll wake up the next day and cringe when you recall the sizable new dent in your checking account.

The compulsive binger, on the other hand, won’t be able to leave until she has ALL THE THINGS…and no more money.

Yeah, I’m that second kind. But with TV.

It all started with Buffy.

I don’t remember why I chose this show over all the others on Netflix. I’d never watched it when it originally aired, and the first season didn’t even do much for me. I mean…the clothes…that hair… But my dirty crush on Rupert Giles kept me coming back, and by the end of episode twelve, I was hooked. Within six months, I watched all seven seasons at least seven times. And it didn’t stop there.

Next up was Vampire Diaries. Then Veronica Mars. Charmed. Skins. Reign. IT Crowd. I watched them, re-watched them, and watched them some more. My personal best (or worst, depending on your point of view) was Supernatural: eleven seasons in three weeks. And I’m about to finish season eight for the third time.

Which brings us to Riverdale

Some shows are best consumed slowly, with a week or more between bites to allow your taste buds to fully process each new mind-blowing shocker or intense emotion. Then there’s Riverdale, which is juicy and delicious and so, so bad for you, and even though it tastes kinda funny, you never want to stop munching on it…except you have to because they haven’t made all the episodes yet and OMG I’M SO ADDICTED.

Between Luke Perry and Skeet Ulrich as sexy dads and a younger bunch of mostly unknown actors, the cast is strange and wonderful at the same time. And the new take on these classic characters is less bubblegum, more Halloween-candy-with-razor-blades-tucked-inside.

Riverdale dad candy

Betty is a straight mess wrapped in cashmere and pearls. Jughead is deep and introspective and has incongruously omniscient narrator powers. Archie is a total anti-hero—not the dark and sexy, amoral kind, but the semi-well meaning yet ineffectual doof kind…which somehow works for him (especially in season two). And Veronica is the perfect mix of vulnerability and badassness, and I’ve decided she’s my new best friend.

It hurts—physically hurts—that I can’t devour and re-devour two-hundred episodes of this show right this second. I’m jonesing hard. Shakes and everything. Go ahead, organize my intervention and cart my ass to Riverdale rehab.

I’m not sure if this was more of a recommendation or a warning. I’ll let you decide.

Hugs ‘n stuff!





  1. Susan Scott Shelley says:

    I keep seeing gifs of this show on Tumblr. You’ve totally sold me on it. I need to check it out.
    And. welcome to the blog! Yay! 🙂

  2. I haven’t seen that much of Riverdale yet–I’ve only seen a few episodes, but I get that it’s totally bingeworthy. Maybe by this time next week I will be totally hooked. 🙂

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