I push the squeaky metal glass door open to the store known as Blockbuster. I’m here to return one B-movie for another one to feed my copious addiction to way-too-cool-for-its-own-good genre fiction.
I drop the movie off and get a half-assed “hello” from one of the cashiers. I take one look around and the place is dead. I can’t even remember what I came here for. I start browsing. All I can hear is the static of the old TVs playing what is probably “Schindler’s List,” but the poor quality of the sets make it look like an Ed Wood movie and the cashiers talking about what level they are in “Skyrim.” I grab my movie and head to the counter.

The college-age, bearded cashier scans my movie without much thought. Clearly, he probably wants to be somewhere else … and maybe I do, too. He’s nice enough, and I even hear the other cashier explain the plot of the movie “Super 8″ to a customer over the phone which is impressive in this day and age of the too-ironic-to-be-good-at my-minimum-wage-job attitude. I leave the store to hop in my gas-guzzling truck to head home to the cool tune of about $10 in gas ( I live two miles away – an over exaggeration, but not by much, sadly).
If I still had Netflix, my movie viewing night would have gone a little something like this: I pop open my laptop, pick the genre I want and start watching whatever I want and, if I get bored, I just stop the movie and start a new one. Hmm. Easy as pie. And we know how we all love pie! Because we are American! Hoo-ah (except meat pie — is that even real!?).
Considering you probably watch your movies through Netflix and your movie watching life is just as easy, if not more easy than what I just wrote, you’re probably laughing at my one of many Blockbuster experiences and wondering why the hell I don’t just wake up … oh, but I have. It’s time to wake you up, sirs and ma’ams.
(more…)