Another Porn Story

It's around 1 PM on the first snow-laden day of the year. Fernando has come in early because he awaits the arrival of his movies, which are as usual running a bit tardy. At the moment he is entertained by Judge Judy and her no-bullshit attitude. He hears a loud truck pull into the lot. Fernando assumes it is a drop-off when he hears footsteps squelching outside.

Nothing happens for about thirty seconds. Then there comes a mighty pounding on the glass of Fernando's locked front door.

Fernando stumps over to the door to see a strange, flannel-clad, red-faced man standing there. His truck is of the large, mud-splattered variety, generously decorated with yellow Support Our Troops ribbon magnets. Fernando pops the door and stands in the blast of chilly air that sweeps through the opening. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, are you open?”

“No. I don't open for another hour.”

“Says there you open at two.”

Shades of the past! “Correct. But it is only one here. But seeing as you're here, now, and I'm here, now, I can make a one-time exception to the rule.”

Fernando steps aside and enters. The man prowls about. “Where's your adult section? Back there?” He makes a beeline for the door to Fernando's back room.

“I don't carry porn, actually.”

This statement does not stop him from opening a door bearing a sign that reads in large, red letters “NO ENTRY: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Chances are, if you're reading this, you're not authorized. No entry for you!” He peers into Fernando's inner sanctuary, where merriment and joy abound, where the despair that lingers in the business section of the store is forbidden. “What?”

“I don't have any porn.”

“You're the only place around here and you don't have porn?”

What is it with people and repeating the things Fernando says? “Well, yes. I just said that. It's not worth it from a budgetary or sanitary sense.”

“Fine then. What if I want to rent something else?”

“Do you have an account here?”

“No. I'm only up here this time of year.”

“Then you'll need to set up an account. That's quick and painless.”

“What do you need for that?”

“The usual. Name, address, driver's license--”

“You're not getting my information.”

Fernando shrugs. “Then I guess you're not renting. You may want to try your argument with Family Video. They're half an hour away, but I'm pretty sure you'll get about as far with them as you did with me with the whole 'renting to a random person' thing. Have a nice day.” Fernando gestures to the front door. The guy looked impossibly pissed off, but leaves. Surprisingly, he doesn't punch anything on the way out.

Fucking hunters.