Trust Issues

Fernando leases a $2.50 rental to an irregular customer one rainy Saturday evening and he departs. The next day, at around 3 PM, he returns with the movie in tow.

“Yeah, this movie didn't work in my player. Can I get a refund?”

Fernando, not being an idiot, proceeds to determine the veracity of this claim by placing the disc in his own player. As he's firing up the TV, he asks, “So, any particular part that caused it to not work?” Fernando also notes that the inner jewel case is shattered straight down the middle when previously it had been intact.

“Oh, y'know, it didn't load at all.”

That's the favorite type of thing for Fernando to check, because it takes so little time and effort. And, lo and behold, it works. Not only do the previews and FBI warnings load flawlessly, but so, too, does the title screen and even the first scene of the movie when Fernando selects the Play Movie option.

But Fernando is not totally heartless when it comes to operating his Dominion. “It's working fine for me here. Maybe your DVD player is just a little musty on the inside or something. I can let you have this for another night on the house, if you like.” The man agrees to this plan and departs.

Around 6.30 that evening, he returns again. “Yeah. It still didn't work. Can I get my money back now?”

“Well then,” says Fernando. “It worked fine for me, and I've never had anyone else complaining about it. I can give you credit towards another rental.”

“So a free rental?”

“No. Credit towards a rental. $2.50.”

“You sure you won't get my money back?”

“Listen. You were standing right there earlier when you saw it worked just fine. I'm already doing far more than I ought to because this disc is in no way dysfunctional and I am trying to scratch out a living. You can take credit, or nothing.”

“Fine. I'll take the credit.”

Fernando then proceeds to make an entry on his credit table for him when the man interrupts. “Yeah, I'd like to have you fill out something I can hold onto, so I can trust you not to forget.” This, of course, is translated from the language of poor customers as “I don't think you're going to give me that credit, you cheap bastard.”

But Fernando humors the man and, taking one of his free rental stampcards, scrawls “$2.50 credit” in nice, black ink upon it. The man, now apparently satisfied, proceeds to fill out a slip for Fernando's drawing despite having been nothing but annoying and not renting a goddamn thing.

The joys of working with the public.