Fernando Shrugged

On a beautiful mid-October day, Fernando plays a bit of Torchlight because his customer flow is nonexistent and he is between internet services at the moment. The phone rings; the caller ID reveals the caller to be a rather elderly customer, someone who comes to the store maybe twice a century and only rents half the time.
“Hello, Dominion of Movies.”
“Hi, do you have Atlas Shrugged?”
“I'm afraid I don't right this moment. It doesn't come out until early next month.”
“Oh. You'll be picking up some copies then?”
“Yeah, I'm snagging one.”
“Only one?”
“Well, I don't think I'll be needing more.”
Fernando's attempt at cordiality and not using words that belie how he really feels about Objectivism must have come off as facile, as the caller degenerated into frothy rage. “Lots of people agree with the message it has!”
“Actually not so much. It only made like 5 million at the box office and money I put towards that will be money I can't put towards, say, Harry Potter, or my own salary. As an apparent fan of the, ah, work in question, surely you can understand, even though I am under no obligation to provide you a moral justification for my actions beyond 'I want it that way,' why I would look out for my self-interest like that.”
“So you're biased against it!”
“Ma'am, the only time I inject politics into my business life is when other people bring it up first. I find it rude to spew derp at my customers, especially given the current unhealthy division that can result from airing one's political leanings.. The only 'politics'--” here Fernando makes air quotes with his free hand even though no one is around to see them-- “at work here is old-fashioned capitalism, and not stocking vast quantities of a movie that won't make me much money. Now, I'm sorry, but I have a line of customers to help. Good bye.”
“Oh. Okay. Bye.”

Fernando hangs up and palms his face.