Blockbuster Rant - Day 5

This is installment 5 of 5. The final rant. So if you're starting from this point, please learn your number system.

Late Fees:
Ahhh, late fees. The unfortunate necessity of renting movies out to thousands of people. Without late fees, due dates mean about as much as my “Have a nice night” comment as they head out the door.
Of course, Blockbuster doesn’t call them “late fees.” They’re called “Extended Viewing Fees.” Or when we explain it to the irate customer, its referred to as “a balance on your account.” That’s the idea, confuse them with silly euphemisms. But these little “punishment payments” can be fun. Not for them. But for me.
I find it all amusing, usually. It’s my little way of reversing the stupidity and attitude I get from every other customer. A final “screw you” to everyone incapable of meeting a noon deadline.
Plus, it’s like a game. How will they react?

No one ever thinks it’s their fault. I’ve heard the same excuses more times than I could’ve ever counted.
“No way. I know I turned those in on time,” they usually say, accompanied by the hands to hips motion.

My ideal reply would go something like this:
“Touché, sir. I hadn’t thought of that.
Well, after a second glance at your electronic history, I have come to the conclusion that one of you is lying. And since you phrased your complaint so eloquently and convincingly, I have to assume that the computer is the one who isn’t being honest. It says here precisely when the movie was checked in and when it was due, but that HAS to be incorrect, what with all the mistakes computers are making these days. It couldn’t be you that was wrong to try to weasel out of paying the late fee that you have accumulated, because that wouldn’t make any sense. Let me just take that off of here for…
Wait a second… AHA! You almost had me convinced. You sly devil, you. That’ll be 4.06.”

Actually the best part about telling them they have late fees is to see the look of horror and shock sweep across their face. You can almost see the anger rise up. It’s so great. Which is why I always make sure I’m not doing anything else when I break the news to them about their little faux pas.
And when I tell them, I like to throw a question mark on the end. “You have a 4.06 balance on your accountQUESTION MARK”
This way its like I’m saying, “How did that get there?” Like I’m on their side. I’m on your team, buddy, don’t get mad at me. Same team, pal. There’s no I in team. We’re all friends here, rightQUESTION MARK You can’t get mad.

But they do.

They always do.

“What do you mean I have a late fee? I turned that in on time. I remember because I was on my way to drop the kids off at soccer practice and I put in the slot both at the same time. And I remember the time because I looked at the positioning of the sun and…”
To me it sounds like this: “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.”

I explain what I can do for them. I can cut it in half or take it off if it’s a small amount, but I like to see what they’re willing to say or do. I, for once, hold all the power. And now that little crack they made about my blue polo doesn’t seem so funny, does it?

Then the manager strides over, takes a look at the rental history, and cuts them a deal. It’s like good cop, bad cop. I sweat them out a little under the bright light, then he comes in and smoothes it over.

Speaking of cops, I made an off-duty cop pay his late fee one time. I felt like Tim Robbins in Shawshank Redemption. I was like, “Take that!”
I wanted so bad to be wearing blue blockers, so that I could pull them down slowly and look over the top of them.
“Excuse me, I’m gonna need to see your Blockbuster card and identification, sir.”
He pulls it out, hands it over.
“Do you know that these movies are late?”
He stammers out an excuse.
“Wait here while I check the computer.”
I take half a step to the left and check out the history.
“I’m gonna have to charge you a late fee, sir. These movies were entirely too late. If they were a few hours late, I might have given you a warning, but this was just too far overdue.”
He nods slowly in agreement and hangs his head in shame.
“Sign here, please. And next time have these in on time. Good day.”

But after the manager is done cutting the deal or forcing payment, he leaves to go handle something else and I’m left with the pissed off customer. My sheepish expression and nervous laugh isn’t going to calm the raging football coach in front of me. And I have to collect the money while he tsks, sighs, and grumbles the whole time. I’m not exactly stern or menacing either, so he just takes it all out on me. It’s like a midget repo man.

So, I tell you what, why don’t I just call you when they’re going to be late.

Conclusionary Statement:
(Before I get started on my final thoughts, I just want to say that conclusionary isn’t a word.)
At the end of the day, none of that crap matters. I’m not going to leave bitter or lose any sleep over some customer’s frantic antics.
I just laugh it off, like I did with this rant.
Blockbuster wasn’t THAT bad of a job. There are much worse, lowering paying jobs. Like being Richard Simmons’s friend.
Though it would have been even better without customers, but hey, you can’t have everything.

But I’m sure glad I’m done with it all, including this rant.

And don’t forget, next time you’re in a Blockbuster, remember to ask the guy for the “Leins Special.”