I’d Curl Up With A Book If It Wasn’t For My Pulpuslacerataphobia. (Fear Of Paper Cuts)

I remember before Blockbuster came along new releases consisted of one shelf. Now they take up the entire perimeter of the store. As far as I’m concerned, new releases should be reserved for films that have been released in the past month. Because of this, classic old movies are relegated to the center shelves where more often than not you can only view the binding of the DVD case. I mean seriously, who are they to decide if ‘Police Academy 7’ is worthy of a full cover display or simply a side display? Because of this my perfect movie selection is put in jeopardy.

After pining over which marginal movie to watch by myself on a Friday night I head towards the register. This proves to be more difficult a task than one might think. The line begins somewhere towards the back of the store, mimicking that of the line for Thunder Mountain at Disney’s Frontier Land. This of course is so that Big Bad Blockbuster can tempt your fat ass with treats that could fatten even the fastest of metabolisms. As if that’s not bad enough, they also offer a large selection of trash celebrity news magazines. Magazines at a fucking movie rental store! Am I the only one that finds this ass backwards? Here I am premeditating a two-hour couch potato session and they have the audacity to offer me even more time wasting vehicles. Sadly as I drag my feet through this gauntlet of gluttony I inevitably grab a box of snowcaps and this month’s edition of CosmoGirl (I can never resist all those great quizzes and helpful tips).

Though the aforementioned gripes would be enough to sour any trip to a local movie rental store, the real tragedy happens at check out. It’s here that your pathetic dignity and movie selection is showcased for all to see. Upon the exchange of your moneys, the dult behind the counter hands you three hundred receipts that you ultimately toss in the parking lot and announces, “Ok Mr. Del fagio of 66 South Rd. ‘Dirty Dancing’ is due back here Sunday at noon.” (Yes that’s right, I find Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze’s performance to be magical. Don’t judge me.) Beet red in the face from embarrassment and anger I storm out of the store vowing to never visit Blockbuster again.

Next week I’ll stand on that same line with a box of cookie dough balls, a Teen Vogue, and the epic ‘Titanic’ in my hands.