Wordless Wednesday: Pharoah Sophia

Even Returning a DVD is Bloggable

So. Yesterday, I rented those two DVDs for free from the Redbox, right? The 'Box is right around the corner, at the grocery store, so maybe two minutes from here.

The time due is 2100 (9 PM) for every DVD, or else you get charged for another night. It's only a buck, but the point of the matter is, this was a freebie, and I wanted to keep it that way. The principle of the thing, and all. You know?

We never managed to watch either movie last night, having both had an exhausting day at our respective "jobs" and conked out early. So during nap time today, I watched the first sucky, glad-it-was-free movie, Stepbrothers, with Will Ferrell and What's His Face Who's in Every Other Movie? It'll come to me by the end of the post. John something?

There's an hour and a half I'll never get back. At least I spent the time knitting. I don't remember the last time I just sat and watched the TV and did nothing else. I don't know if I'm still capable of that. But I digress.

I didn't have time to watch the next God-awful movie, because it was time for dance, so it had to wait until we were all home and the kids were cleaning their rooms.

As soon as Rob queued up Tropic Thunder, I knew I was not going to be into it. As far as Ben Stiller goes, I am really not a fan, but this has to be the worst! I did a few rounds of knitting, but soon I couldn't stand to be extant in the same room as the flick and started hibernating immediately.

But not before I asked Rob, who was sitting right next to me, if he was up to returning the movie by nine o'clock, the due date time, before which we'd be charged, no matter what, are you absolutely sure? He was.  We were cutting it close, having started it at seven, but he was all-systems-go.

I was jolted awake by a small child at five minutes to nine. The VCR read "8:55" and here was my husband, sound asleep next to me, with the TV showing the menu of Tropic Thunder.


"Robert!" I screeched. "You said you would return the movie on time!!"

"Oh!" he jumped up and replied. "I will, don't yell at me!"

With that, he - wearing only shorts - disappeared upstairs.

"Oh, hell," I muttered to myself, before getting up, haphazardly throwing the DVD into the Redbox case, and running to the door. As I was slipping on my shoes, I heard from upstairs, "Honey, I'm going to go!"

I looked up, squealed, "But you're naked!!" and slammed out the door. I had two minutes 'til nine.

I got there in time. I'm sure I did. But the machine rejected my DVD, over and over. I'd seen how to do it the night before. I knew what to do. But it just wasn't happening. Minute after minute was passing as I read the FAQs about 'what if it doesn't accept my DVD?' I imagined going onto my bank account website and seeing that dollar sucked away from me. So much for free.

Finally, I looked at the DVD, opened it, saw I had the damn thing in backward, turned it around, and stuck it successfully back in the fucking machine. Four minutes late.

I marched back to my vehicle, turned on the engine, and looked at the radio screen, which tells me what song is playing. What was it? The player read "Bad Case"!


"Bad Case of Loving You" by Robert Palmer is now my theme song for tonight.

Gotta love it.