Common Courtesy

It's New Release Tuesday at around 4 PM. Most of the new releases have already gone. A chubby, dumpy woman, younger in years than Fernando but who nevertheless looks older, enters the store carrying an open can of soda and a bag of Doritos.

“Hey, do you know every movie you have here?” she asks around a mouthful of orange junk food.

“I know whether or not I have ev--” Fernando begins, then stops and scowls as the noise of a horrid rap song fills the store.

“Yeah? Whattup?” the young woman says into her cell phone as she raises a finger at Fernando in a just-a-second gesture. Fernando returns his attention to his computer screen. In part because he has just been ignored and moreso because he has no desire to see if an eruption of half-chewed chips is spilling out of the woman's mouth and onto the floor.

After blathering for two minutes she hangs up. “Ok, what were you saying?”

Fernando rotates in his chair to face her. “I know whether or not I have a given movie here, if that was the question you intended on asking.”

“Oh, yeah. Do you have I Spit on Your Grave?”

Ah, that movie. Fernando had heard rather notorious things about it. He gave it a pass because more important things came out around that time. “Sorry, can't say that I do.”

“Well, you should definitely pick it up. It's awesome.”

“I'm sure it is. I'll see what I can do.”

The young woman turns to leave but then reconsiders and returns to the counter to fill out a gift certificate drawing slip.

“I'm sorry,” says Fernando, “but you have to rent in order to be eligible for the drawing.”

“That sucks,” she says, crumpling the paper. “You should let everybody fill it out. That would be tits.”

“It would also lead to a bunch of people who have no intent on renting to loiter around the store in the hopes of getting free crap.” Subtle, no?

“Guess so.” And she leaves, chips and soda in hand.

That evening, Fernando found a discarded bag of nacho cheese Doritos in the grass next to the store when he closed up.