It’s not a “used” car anymore. It’s “pre-owned”.

We decided to stay in on Saturday night after a hellishly long two weeks so a quick stop at the Blockbuster on Union Deposit Road was in order.

Browsing through the aisles, I walked past the used…er, previously-viewed DVD’s and went straight to the new release section.

Not feeling like watching anything with too much depth, we settled on Adventureland. (It’s from the same guys that did Superbad and, while it was pretty funny, it was sort of a disappointment compared to the urinating-on-oneself hilarity that was Superbad.)

ANYWAY- we get to the counter and place the selection (along with two boxes of Whoppers) on the counter and I presented the check-out guy with my card. He scanned it and with a quick beep, I immediately recognized the look on his face. He was about to inform me that I had a late charge.

But what happened next was anything but normal…instead of informing me of the late-fee on my account which stemmed from returning Beautiful Girls after eleven days instead of ten back in June, the dude behind the counter told me something completely unexpected.

In the same “okay, sir…you have a late-fee of seven dollars and thirty seven cents” tone had by most Blockbuster employees, this dude said “okay, sir…you have a restocking fee of a dollar thirty three”.

A restocking fee.

“I’m sorry…a what? A restocking fee?”

“Yes, sir…a restocking fee. From Beautiful Girls back in June”

“Well, was it late?”

“Um, yes sir. You brought it back on the eleventh day and it was due back in ten.”

“Uh, okay…so it’s a late fee.”

“No, sir. We don’t have late fees anymore. It’s a restocking fee.”

“Yeah, dude…but your “restocking fee” is charged because the movie was returned one day after the day it was due…therefore, it was late. So, it is, in fact, a late fee.”

“No. It is a restocking fee. You see, because you kept the movie a day later than you were allowed, someone out there wasn’t able to rent that movie because it wasn’t here. So when you returned it, we had to restock it on the shelf. Restocking fee.”

“Bro…if I returned this movie the day after I rented it…and it was on-time, you or you or you [there were three employees behind the counter at this point] would have to take that movie from the return bin and place it back on the shelf where it belongs. “Comedy”, in with the “B’s” somewhere after Back To The Future and before Boogie Nights. And you wouldn’t charge me a restocking fee then, would you?”

“No, because it would have been on time.”

“HA! So it IS a late fee!!”

“No, sir…it’s a restocking fee.”

“ARRRRRRRR!!!”

At this point, my girlfriend was practically kicking me in the shin (her way of telling me to “drop it, already!”).

Look…this is my point. We’ve progressed and kept time over two thousand years.

I can watch porn on my iPhone in my pocket.

The toll lanes are automated with EZ Pass.

We put a man on the moon.

And have made discoveries and advances far beyond anything our forefathers ever could have dreamed up.

So why do we make it so difficult to communicate with one-another these days?

Say it like it is, Blockbuster…it’s a fucking late fee.

Does it have to be this difficult?