Sunday, January 11, 2009
I think there is only one video store clerk in the world.
Every time I walk in the door, I glance nervously at the counter, hoping that this time there will be someone different there. A pimply faced school-kid. A mumsy type in a flowery dress. A skin-head with a face full of metal and tattoos. I got lucky last time, and came in to find a sleepy Rasta on duty - I squeaked for joy, and instantly grabbed handfuls of rom-coms and feel good flicks. But my luck was shortlived, and this time, its him. Lounging behind the counter, watching 'Dr Strangelove', grungily sexy in his op shop castaways and battered fedora. Damn it!
I grudgingly pick out 'Last Year at Marienbad' and 'Dogville'. I waver for a moment over 'Once': I really want to see it, but despite it initially being shown at a film festival, it was later released in mainstream cinema, so no, it goes back on the shelf. My relaxing night in has just turned into another enlightening evening of the intricacies of Danish cinematography. I wish I could get what I really need to numb my mind and soothe my weary soul, but I can’t face the look of scorn that would appear if I offered up 'Love Actually'.
I hand over my selection, knowing that this time I’m safe.
"There’s a $16 late charge on your account for 'The Jane Austen Book Club', 'PS, I Love You', and '27 Dresses'. Do you want to pay that now?"