A Matter of Perspective

The July 4^th weekend and its various exhibitions of jingoistic fervor have come underway, and this brings a surprising number of outsiders through the area. Some are sad and accursed souls who are forced to seek lodging in the area when the sun goes down and the kamikaze deer begin their migrations. Others are a peculiar stripe of masochist which seeks out the lands and celebrations around Saladolsa for amusement and camping.

A white truck pulls into the Dominion's parking lot one day. A man who looks to be in his fifties and a slightly younger woman, probably his wife, clamber out and cross the burning wasteland of asphalt to seek refuge inside the store's air conditioned walls.

“Hey, if we're not from the area, will you rent to us?” asks the man in a raspy voice.

“If you've got a local place at which you're staying and are willing to fill out a member application, absolutely.”

“Well, all I got for my local credentials is this, if that's good enough for you.” The man pulls out a folded sheet of paper from his pants pocket and places it on the countertop. Feranando rises and takes a look at it.

A cursory inspection reveals that the paper is essentially a hall pass which has been given by the man's probation officer which has writ upon it an address for a campground in Norbert, which lies ten or so miles beyond Zail-Kanzin.

“I'll just need to see your driver's license, but this is good enough for me,” Fernando tells him. The man produces the license, Fernando completes the appropriate paperwork and gives his memorized rundown of how the store operates, and the man and his wife select two movies to take home for the evening.

Why rent to the dude? Four reasons. The out-of-state jackasses who Fernando has encountered before do not have any bearing on the quality of character of any other out-of-state person, and why be a stereotypical close-minded small town jerk upon such shoddy reasoning? A guy who is umbilically linked to a probation officer will not do anything irrational like jeopardizing his status by running off with some rental movies, and Fernando would be guaranteed a positive resolution because the legal system already has its eyes on our hypothetical sneak-thief. The man was up-front and unapologetic about the probationary swamp miring him and willing to place responsibility for adjudging his character upon Fernando without simpering pretense or facile apology.

Finally, Fernando likes to make money, and that doesn't happen by arbitrarily turning away customers. He rents to other lawbreakers all the time.