Wednesday, September 2, 2015

The Line At Redbox

Having to deal with hundreds of bitter assholes at the grocery store at 5:30pm any day of the week is one thing, but having to deal with the goddamn dip shits in the Redbox movie rental line, is a whole new fucking ballgame.

Tell me something, how fucking hard is it to rent a fucking movie from a machine that is less technical savvy than a goddamn ATM machine? I'm not joking people. Does this look like a motherfucking game to you? For reals. The concept is fairly fucking simple, y'all. For the slap dicks out there, all you need to do is pick the movie you like via touchscreen (all movies are listed by either category or alphabetical order). Then enter your motherfucking email address. Next you pay 1 whole fucking dollar. Last, you receive your goddamn movie so you can be on your merry fucking way.

Quick. Painless. Easy.

How is it though, when the guy in front of me finally goes to pick his movie, 7 other fucking family members show up? Wife. 3 kids, ages 4 to 12 (ugly little shits, too). Good 'ol Grandma. Last but not least, cousin and her husband. No fucking lie. Literally, 8 motherfuckers now standing there, all debating on what movie to rent. How could this be? Am I being Punk'd or something? This shit is worse than going to Costco and watching that family of 10, eat up all the goddamn samples and crowd every fucking aisle in a warehouse full of merchandise and at the end of the day, don't buy a goddamn thing. Acting like this is Golden Corral and shit.

There I am still standing in line, knowing what the fuck I'M going to rent. 5 minutes has gone by. Now 10. These fucking people have mentioned everything from Toy Story 3 to Saw I, II and III to some shit you could definitely find on PornHub. Wait, what?! WTF?! I mean, how the hell do you go from little Charlie talking about a kids movie to your cousin in-law Mike, recommending a movie about a crazy fucking serial killer sawing off people's heads as a hobby? Motherfucker, are you looking for Grandma to shit her pants then die from a fucking heart attack you sick fuck? Let's not forget the fucking nightmares little Charlie will probably have until he's 18. That kid will piss himself more times than he'll have sex by the time he's 21.

Wait, what's this? Your wife wants everyone to do hand votes now? Motherfucker, this isn't a goddamn debate class. This isn't fucking Congress. This isn't heads up, 7-Up, Redbox Edition, bitch. How bout I raise my hand up your fucking ass? How does that sound, huh? All I'm saying is the time that it's taking you to decide on a movie, you motherfuckers better be adding to your queue every goddamn title that is brought up in conversation. I'm praying that you don't leave that fucking kiosk with nothing less than a shopping cart full of fucking movies at this point.  

20....I REPEAT...20 minutes of my life has been fucking wasted and now shit has resulted in a shouting match. These people aren't even searching for movie titles anymore. They are now arguing about movies that aren't even out on DVD. Straight Outta Compton? Fools, I'm about to get straight outta this line and beat you with a fresh baked baguette, motherfuckers. You fucking serious right now?  What the fuck just happened? Where the fuck am I? I'm so fucking hungry and I need to take a shit.

Goddamnit people, I just want to rent a goddamn fucking movie, go home, eat, take a big ass dump, drink some wine then have some sex before I go the fuck to bed. Instead, minutes of my fucking life are being taken away from me and I'll never get them back. At a fucking grocery store of all places.  For fuck's sake, just pick something before I get all "Die Hard" in this bitch.

30 minutes have now gone by and I'll never be able to get those minutes back. EVER. The Partridge family can't decide sugar from shit and decide to peace out. ALL leaving angry. Even that little shit, Charlie. But hey, what about me motherfuckers? You want to talk about angry? My sorry ass sat here for 30 goddamn minutes, listening to you fucks. Then debate if I should crack open a bottle of fucking wine, get shit faced and cause a scene. Now you want to leave after all that time empty handed? You couldn't have just assigned dad to picking the movie, could you?  Noooo...instead, you had to fucking vote on the whole damn family carpooling to Safeway to pick a movie.

Thanks, fuckers. Thanks a lot. You couldn't have gone to Blockbuster or rented shit on Netflix, huh?  Instead, you had to sit in front of this goddamn kiosk for 30 minutes and drive me up the fucking wall talking about every fucking movie that was listed on that fucking touchscreen and not rent a goddamn thing.

I hope the next time you rent a movie, the packaging is wrong, you get the wrong DVD and then you fuck yourself before going to bed.

And after being as angry as I am, I just realized that I was the dumb fuck who waited in line for 30 minutes dealing with this shit when there was another grocery store down the street with another Redbox.

Well fuck me sideways. 

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