Messy Minded Momma

Daily writing prompt

Q: What movies or TV series have you watched more than 5 times?
A: Friends

There is only one answer to this question, and if it is not Friends, I don’t know what planet you’re living on.

I was six years old when the show first aired back in 1994, so I didn’t watch most of its seasons in real time. But by the time season 10 rolled around in 2003, I was a teenager in high school, looking forward to 8pm on Thursday nights.

A year after the finale, I slowly started purchasing the seasons on DVD. At the time, a season cost around $40–$50 CDN, the equivalent of about $80 in today’s economy. I was working part-time making minimum wage, so I had to pace myself. Sometimes it took months before I could buy another season. Sometimes I had to wait until birthdays or Christmas for the more popular ones.

But by 2008, my ten-season collection was finally complete.

When I started building my Friends DVD collection, I would pick a disc from one of my favourite seasons (usually 2, 4, 5, or 9), pop it into my portable DVD player, and fall asleep to the show. The comedic timing of Chandler’s sarcasm, Ross’ awkwardness, and Phoebe’s wonderfully strange logic became the white noise to a long day. I could close my eyes and still picture the exact scene playing out. What the characters were wearing, where they were standing in Monica’s apartment, and the punchline that was about to land. Sometimes I swear I can still hear the DVD menu music loading in my head.

The predictability boosted my mood and lowered my anxiety. It felt like these six characters were my real friends. I had a special attachment to each one of them. No matter what kind of day I had or mood I was in, Friends was always the solution. They were always there.

Period cramps? Friends.

Breakup? Friends.

Need a good laugh? Friends.

The jokes never got old. The scenes never dulled. Every time I watched it, it somehow felt like the first time all over again.

So when I discovered there would be a Central Perk pop-up in New York in the fall of 2014 for the 20th anniversary of the show’s premiere, I booked a flight and hotel without hesitation. This would be the first official Friends experience. I was all in. I couldn’t believe I would get to see the Friends building and take part in something so special.

The pop-up ran for less than a month in New York’s trendy neighbourhood of SoHo. The event was free and first-come, first-serve. Although I tried to be strategic and book my trip during the week to avoid the weekend rush, that didn’t stop me (or the thousands of other fans) from standing in line for hours. The line stretched more than three blocks. Some people even camped overnight. Arriving what I thought was first thing in the morning didn’t help much.

I remember how cold it was that day. I hadn’t dressed for the weather. It was one of those sunny fall days that looks warm but isn’t. The wind tunneled through the streets of New York and left me with that bone-deep cold that no amount of rubbing my arms up and down seemed to fix. But once inside, it was worth it.

I got to explore set memorabilia, photographs, and even take a picture on the original orange couch. I didn’t drink coffee at the time, but I did enjoy hot chocolate in a Central Perk disposable coffee cup. It was an experience I proudly talked about for years.

My sister shared the same love for Friends, and later that year we even got matching tattoos down our spines.

Hers reads:

“I’ll be there for you…”

And mine reads:

“…’cause you’re there for me too.”

But something interesting happened the following year.

When streaming exploded and a new generation discovered the show, Friends suddenly became everywhere again. Quotes flooded social media. Merchandise took over store shelves. Mugs, apparel, LEGO sets, and notebooks assaulted my eyes. The more popular the show became again, the more I quietly pulled away from it. Not because I stopped loving it, but because the noise around it made something that had always felt personal suddenly feel… crowded.

For me, Friends was never about the merchandise or the trending quotes. It was about familiarity. It was about comfort. It was about knowing exactly what line Chandler would deliver before he said it. It was the predictable rhythm my anxious brain could settle into after a long day. It was a place my mind could go where everything made sense. Where the jokes always landed. Where the story always wrapped up in twenty-two minutes. And where six friends somehow always found their way back to the couch.

Sometimes your brain just needs a place that feels safe. And for me, that place has always been Friends. Which is probably something I should bring up in therapy someday. Although, when my therapist asked me what my “container” looked like, I described a small handheld version of the wooden box Chandler sits in, poking his finger through, to prove his friendship to Joey in season four.