Five years ago, we moved into the puppet shanty. Down the road lay a freshly built den of inequity known as “Blockbuster.”
On the weekend, we would rent movies, which would be “3” day rentals, but if you picked them up Friday night, they were due back by midnight Sunday. So, 3 days in BB-speak was more like 51 hours.
We would return the movies on time, b****ing all the way there and back about BB’s diabolical time compression scheme. I knew they were trying to take over the world, but I could never prove it. The next time we would show up, there would be a late fee for the on time return.
Bitch, bitch, bitch later, they would reverse the charge. Next rental return they would do it again. So, I sent a nastygram to corporate HQ. No response. Then, the sock boycott of BB began.
Now, just 5 years later, BB has wilted under the onslaught of bad publicity and economic ruin occasioned solely by me and my solitary protest. I think. Corporate spokesmodel RuPaul reportedly said, “Yeah, you got us. but we would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for that meddling jerk blogger.” Or something.