I Emailed the CEO of Netflix — And I’m Still Refreshing Gmail Like It Owes Me Rent

Alex Pyatkovsky
Jun 27
2 min read

I did it.

I emailed the CEO of Netflix.

No, this isn’t a metaphor.

I didn’t manifest it. I didn’t send good vibes into the universe.

I opened Gmail, typed up a pitch with a subject line bold enough to make recruiters nervous, attached a carefully worded proposal, and hit send.

To Greg Peters.

The real deal. The guy at the top. The one who probably signs off on Bridgerton spinoffs and greenlights dramatic limited series based on obscure Reddit threads. That Greg.

Why?

Because I believe the greatest untold story in entertainment isn’t a spy thriller, a true-crime documentary, or a fantasy saga starring dragons and emotionally unavailable princes.

It’s this:

The modern job hunt.

That’s the real content.

That’s the real drama.

And it’s happening every single day — in kitchens, bedrooms, and coffee shops — where ordinary people refresh inboxes, redo resumes, and try to keep a sense of humor while being ghosted for roles that pay less than their rent.

So I pitched him a series.

Title: Interview Games

Genre: Corporate trauma meets dark comedy meets reality TV

Tone: Half “The Office,” half “Hunger Games,” with a hint of “Dear God, not another take-home assignment.”

Each episode was already written by life itself:

Your Application Has Been Received
Quick Chat with the Recruiter
Meet the Team (They Won’t Hire You)
The Project You Did for Free
Silence
We’ve Decided to Go in a Different Direction

You’ve lived it. I’ve lived it.

The inbox that becomes a therapist.

The résumé portal that asks you to retype every word from your uploaded PDF.

The “We’re like family” interviews that ghost you faster than a bad Tinder match.

And I didn’t just email a pitch.

I emailed the pain.

Wrapped in satire. Drizzled in truth. With a slow-motion montage idea where a guy rereads a rejection email while Sarah McLachlan plays in the background.

And then I waited.

And waited.

And am still waiting.

No reply.

No “Love the concept.”

No “We’re passing, but please never contact us again.”

Just an empty inbox and an overworked Gmail refresh button.

Now, do I think Greg read it?

I’d like to believe so.

Maybe he laughed. Maybe he cried. Maybe he printed it out, placed it under his coffee, and is now using it as a coaster next to a script called Zombie Influencer Academy.

And listen — I’m not delusional.

(Okay, maybe 12% delusional, but in a charming way.)

This wasn’t about instant stardom.

It was about taking the shot.

Because sometimes you get tired of waiting for permission to be taken seriously.

Sometimes you just have to email the CEO and say: “Hey… this thing we’re all going through? It deserves a voice.”

So yeah — I’m still refreshing Gmail.

Still checking that “Sent” folder like it holds the secrets of the universe.

But even if nothing comes of it, I’ll keep writing.

Because this series?

This experience?

It’s not just about getting a job.