The Redbox.

I have found a new annoyance.
A pet peeve if you will.


Nothing has become more frustrating than getting out of my what is now a 2006 Kia Rio to rent a movie from the glorious redbox, and the most indecisive person God could have created is in front of me.

Lets make this person a male, and lets name him John Mark. Cause he would be a John Mark. John Mark is wearing cargo pants that are a sconch too short, tivas WITH socks, a superman logo t-shirt and sporting a 1993 haircut. You know exactly what I am talking about; a fresh 90's look, but still trying to stay true to the 80's kinda swagger.

There is a breeding ground somewhere for John Marks who hog the redbox.


So back to my grievance; John Mark stands there with his legs spread like he is bracing himself for Jane Fonda's intense pre-aerobic stretch, and scrolls through the list of movies with a blank stare. This stance shows me that he, along with myself, will be standing here for a while.

Oh p.s. at the redbox, time stops. It no longer exists the way it normally should. When you are standing on redbox grounds, you are on redbox time. So what really is only about 3 minutes in normal world time, could feel like 23 minutes in redbox time.

And I'm sorry, but that is just way too much time. If I wanted to take 23 minutes to rent a movie, I would go to block buster (which I probably never will again because I owe them 32 dollars). But no, I choose the redbox because it is fast and convenient. Or atleast it's SUPPOSED to be.

So there I am, staring at the back of this man with impatience. At some point I pull out my phone with the intent to send a text of complaint to Jessi, as if she can do anything about this situation. Poor Jessi.

I start to shift legs and sigh and tilt my head the way people do at the DMV. But then I realize that this isn't the DMV, this is the redbox. And then I feel a slight twinge of guilt for being so impatient, followed by a heart of thanksgiving that I am nowhere near a Department of Motor Vehicles.

It could be worse.

This new attitude of gratitude (ha-ya like that one?) lifts my spirits and it almost makes me want to enter into a dialogue with Mr. John Mark cargo pants. I mean there is a plethora of topics we could discuss as we both share this movie renting experience. Maybe I could even aid in his decision.

And as I attempt to start off with some witty comment, He hits cancel on the touch screen and walks to his car, with his head hanging low in defeat, as if to say "I have failed."


I stand there with that all too familiar "what the hell?!" look on my face. Did he really just waste 23, I mean 3 minutes of my time? We're all efforts, both John Mark's attempts to choose a film and my feeble go at finding patience and compassion, all in vain?


John Mark, we both deserve better.