A group of three people enter the store one day. Normally this is a nonissue, but today it prompts Fernando to come to full attention. It just so happens that the sole male member in this group is on Fernando's ban list for absconding with a couple of movies earlier in the year: Afterlife and Scary Movie 2. Fernando double-checks his records to get the numbers and dates correct for the inevitable, forthcoming conflict.
The group browses the store and the bastion of masculine gallantry preens his courtship feathers by remarking on how “gay-looking” this or that actor is on a given movie case. He proclaims that Jake Gyllenhaal's role in Prince of Persia wins first prize. Anyway, after too long a time to Fernando's tortured ears, they come to the counter. The gent slaps down a pair of tags with a superior smirk upon his face.
“I'm sorry. I won't rent to you.”
The smirk vanishes, to be replaced by an angry scowl and a visible twitching of the shoulders and upper arms. This man is taller and more ripped than Fernando, and he seems to feel that physical intimidation is the way to go on this one. “What?” he asks in an angry monotone.
“I'm sorry. I won't rent to you,” Fernando repeats.
“What?” The angrybrows grow more beetled in the face of Fernando's defiance.
“I'm sorry. I won't rent to you,” Fernando says a third time. “The reason being that you rented a couple of movies and never returned them. Until the $70 in late and replacement fees that I am owed is paid, I won't rent to you.”
The adolescent-minded young man growls and bunches his muscles more. “I want to rent these.”
Too easy. “And I want you to pay the $70 you owe me. Since neither is going to happen anytime soon, I don't see any point to continuing this discussion.”
One of his fangirls, Mr. Eyebrows' sex-buddy for all Fernando knew, pipes up at this point. “How does he owe you $70?” she asks, accusation in her voice.
“Two weeks of late fees plus replacement fees on top of that.” Fernando smiles. “Normally I call the cops about thefts but I didn't want to bother them with something so unimportant.”
Eyebrows' face flushes, either in petulant anger at not getting his way or because he detected an insult in the words Fernando had just said. “What'll it take to let us rent here?” asks Fangirl Two, who is the nicest-looking and politest in the bunch.
“To let you rent here? You'd need to open an account. Driver's license, cough it up.” Fernando retrieves a membership application.
“You'll let her rent but not me?” Eyebrows thunders as Fangirl Two gets to writing.
“Well, yes. For one she's not you; for two I find it is bad business practice to prejudge people based on what their relations or friends have done. She hasn't stolen from me.” Fernando decides at this point he's trolled the guy enough and needs to open the doors to redemption. “Understand that it's not personal, despite how it may seem. You pay off the seventy bucks and earn your way back into my good graces, it's all forgotten. I had a guy who owed me like ninety bucks at one point. Came in, paid it off, now he rents just fine. Something to consider.” At this point Eyebrows' expression transitioned from face-smash to mere annoyance and Fangirl Two had finished filling out the application. “Ah, excellent. It'll be three-fifty.”
Fangirl Two pays and leaves. Eyebrows still owes seventy dollars.
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