We have Netflix, but we use Blockbuster when we’re in serious need of a movie fix. Which is often. Last night, while I was browsing the new releases, I came across The Last Kiss.

505203the-last-kiss-posters.jpg
“I like that fellow from Scrubs! And that girl from the O.C. was always my favorite!” I thought. Out loud, I said “We’re getting this one.”
Ryan got that look on his face that he only makes when I force him to rent a terrible romantic comedy. Luckily for him, his guardian angel was standing behind me:
“Ugh, respect yourself. Don’t rent that.” A pinched-looking woman wearing a rainbow beanie and the ugliest sweater I have ever seen in my life was looking at me critically. “It’s so bad it’s offensive.”
She said it with a tone that suggested that I’d be committing a sin against women; possibly even humankind.
“Oh, uh… but I like Zach Braff. He’s funny on Scrubs…”
“No! Trust me, rent something else.” She cast me one more glance and then walked away. Ryan, of course, helped the situation so much by exclaiming, “Booyah! I am win!”

I put the movie back (in shame) and continued to simmer in my fury until we left the store. On the way home, I kept thinking of all the things I should have said to her, like “Why don’t you mind your own business, lady?” or “I can pick my own bad romantic comedies, thank you” and my personal favorite, “Respect yourself! Don’t EVER leave the house wearing those clothes again.”

A block from home, we ran into my friend Megan and I told her about the woman. She laughed, but then said that The Last Kiss was horrible. Maybe I’ll rent it just to spite that woman, if only in my mind. Man, I’m pathetic sometimes.

No related posts.