Reckoning

A reedy guy who'd been to the store only maybe five times over three or so years comes in one day and rents a couple of movies. His modus operandi over previous visits was as follows: return the films a day late and take the three or so dollar late fee. Fernando diligently adds the tally to the late fee list and it sits there, a toady blemish, until Fernando reaches the point where he wants to trim the damn thing down to below four or five pages, whereupon he culls the late fees under ten bucks attached to people who hadn't come to the store in roughly a decade. Soon thereafter, through a combination psychic resonance, word on the street, and confirmation bias on Fernando's part, Timely Tim returns to the store with a clean slate and this phoenixesque degeneration starts anew.

The second-to-last time Fernando culled the late fee list, he had once again purged this debtor's history, and Timely Tim made his reappearance. This happened around October of 2012. He rented a couple of movies and they were, again, dropped off a day late. This time, though, Tim came in the following day and rented again. The conversation went roughly like so:

Fernando: “You have three bucks in late fees from yesterday. Did you want to kill them off?”

T.T.: “Oh...I only got enough money for these. I'll hit you up next time?”

Fernando: “That's fine.”

Those movies, too, were returned late. Now, though, T.T.'s late fees had no real reason or excuse on Fernando's part to be swept away, so when Fernando most recently cropped his late list T.T.'s six dollar debt remained intact.

Now it's June, 2013. Timely Tim had made like the cicada he somewhat resembles and stands in the Dominion's foyer. Fernando says to him, “You've got six bucks in late fees, if you wanted to put something down on them.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, from October of last year.”

T.T. screws up his face in concentration. “Are you sure?”

“Fairly sure. We had a talk last time. You returned some movies a little late and said you'd pay the late fees next time you were in.”

“You said that was three bucks.”

“You rented again that day and returned those late too.”

“Well, that one wasn't my fault. My friend was s'pposed to drop them off.”

“But your friend didn't. Perhaps if you ask you will be reimbursed for your troubles.”

“How much does it come to altogether?”

“Thirteen bucks.”

T.T.'s expression is momentarily cunning, then resigned. “'Kay, fine.” He squares up with Fernando and takes his movies out.

They are returned four days late. Eighteen is many more dollars than six, and Fernando looks forward to T.T.'s next visit a year down the road.