2003-03-14

Wednesday night I went to Blockbuster, because I wasn�t feeling well and I wanted the mental equivalent of pablum to help while away my evening. I ended up in line behind a couple renting The Ring. They asked the clerk if the movie was any good (excellent plan, because �discerning taste in film� is right under �opposable thumbs� on the list of hiring criteria for Blockbuster employees). The following conversation ensued, much to my violent annoyance:

Idiot Customer: �You seen this? Is it any good?�

Clerk 1: �Yeah, it�s OK.�

IC: �It says on the box that it�s better than Signs.�

Clerk 2: �It�s supposed to be the best scary movie since Sixth Sense.�

IC: �It says Signs on the box.�

C2: �Well, it�s more like Sixth Sense.�

C1: �I guess the comparison can be made with Signs because they�re both thrillers.�

IC: �Is it better than Signs?�

I don�t remember the rest of the conversation, because at that point I submerged my head in a nearby bin of Skittles in order to muffle my screams. Really, how could someone actually use up valuable oxygen in such a way? That�s like arguing about which brand of laxative is best. Whatever you pick, the end result is a pile of shit.