dear blockbuster,
Dear Blockbuster Video of New Milford,
To Whom It May Concern (Probably someone in management or perhaps the person who trains your zombified and arguably illiterate employees. Seriously, do you even bother to check that they have a grasp of the English language, which, by the way, is our national language, sufficient for their level of schooling? Can they perform basic motor tasks such as separating the red marbles from the black ones? You'd think that this financial crisis would motivate employers to retain only those employees best suited to generate revenue, but I don't suppose that's necessary when you have a veritable monopoly on the home video market.[1]):
Today,[2] I went into your store. I did this for several reasons, mainly because your establishment is widely known as the name in movie rentals, and I was desirous for a film, and Video World[3] didn't have it, and I've got a torrent but it's taking forever to seed and goddamn but I can't wait for the day of reliable filesharing which, of course, will mean the world no longer has need for your intrusive and suspicious society[4]. But I digress.
You see, Blockbuster, owning a video store, not that I could possibly teach you anything about it, is tricky, or so I would imagine. You have to balance a diverse clientel with uniquely sophisticated tastes, so that you don't end up in the position of wondering "Oh Jesus, does Mr. Hackensack prefer the French New Wave or New German Cinema? Oh fiddlesticks, I should really have paid attention to all those movies he's been renting from us, because now he's in a bit of a twist and can't decide and wants me to reccomend something.[5]" (Hey Mr. Hackensack! Look over there! Yes, that is 27 copies of Forgetting Sarah Marshall on that wall over there! Arranged in a way psychologically proven to promote a feeling of commerce! And so conveniently close to the checkout counter!) You really need to have a good understanding of your renters, because they come to you for a service. A service that, in this day and age, it's safe to say, mainly you provide. It could have been selling those packing peanuts that arent Styrofoam and therefore safe to eat in multiples of a thousand, but you chose movies. Good choice, I say. Film, while relatively young, is arguably one of the most complex art forms one can choose to work within, and the results can be nothing short of breathtaking. Hitchcock, Welles, Polanski, Kurosawa, Godard, Bergman, Herzog, Lynch, et al. Now, I personally would never buy biodegradable packing peanuts from a supplier who didn't know jack shit about them, and neither do I rent from purveryors of video with a similar lack of knowledge about their product, which is where we get to the crux of my annoyance, which, by the way, is the whole reason I'm writing this very drawn out letter with footnotes. Please read them.
As I said, heres the whole thing. I went into your store looking for a film, Bertolucci's[6] Il Conformista. That is the title of the film, which I imparted upon one of your register jockeys, who promptly (yes, promptly) responded with a brain dead, vacant stare. Heres where I take issue.
Number one: Your employee failed to smile, greet, or address me. This is a fucking customer service position. To me, service comes with a smile. Maybe this is too much to ask. Don't worry, this isnt my main gripe.
Number two: I am not Italian. I prefixed the title of the film with "Do you have..." The employee made no attempt at typing "Il Conformista" into the computer in front of him.
Perhaps he did not understand that "Il Conformista" was not, in fact, a cry of the Revolution, and simply was too afraid to move for fear of being singled out for reprisals. I considered that he simply did not kow how to spell it, but in that case he surely would have asked. Then it dawned on me. This young man knew nothing of Bertolucci. Figuring that the computer would also have the American title. "The Conformist?" I intoned. He typed it in. So he wasn't deaf or hard of hearing after all. I was a thought in the back of my head from the beginning, but afterwards I realized it was foolish of me to have even considered it. Surely a corporation as large and tyrannical as yours would take every chance to eliminate strange disabled people from the workplace. It's a pity this one slipped by. You might have saved me half an hour writing this, and the ten seconds that you will take to scan the first few lines and deliver it promptly to the shredder.
However, if you are persuaded by my argument, and if you should want to fire this employee for his lack of couth and his sub par listening skills, not to mention his deficiency in basic conversational Italian, the following is a rough physical description. Read this like Anthony Hopkins in the scene where they've got him strapped to that roller thing at the airport. You know, "Senator, one more thing. Love the suit!"
Five foot eight, one hundred and seventy pounds, large head, clean shaven and with hair that could double for a brillo pad if your soap started growing that crusty stuff on it like mine does. I think I have a mold problem.
Now, I think I'll say what I've been meaning to. Your employees are idiots. They know nothing of film, and therefore should not be working in a video store. Please consider hiring a film historian to assist in the training of your customer service representatives, or whatever you call them. From now on, I'm going to call them fuckheads.[7]
Sincerely,
Max Lauf
Footnotes
1. Yes, monopoly. I'm not counting Neflix, because normal people don't want to wait three days for a movie they've decided on the spot to watch,[A] or be denied a rental simply because you've lost those damn little red envelopes and cant send your DVD back. Maybe they lack such a social life that they want to rent more than 5, or whatever number it is, movies in one sitting. Not that I know any of these purely hypothetical people.
A. And then by the time Boys Don't Cry arrives in the mail shes totally not in the mood like she was that night, which is a shame, because it always makes her sob uncontrollably and then, inexplicably, want to put out. But I don't blame you for this, Blockbuster. I've lost track of my point, but I'm fairly sure I wasn't implicating you in my sex life.
2. Today, in this context, is the date I wrote this letter, not the date at which you read the word "Today."
3. Video World in Woodbury, not the one you so valiantly chased out of New Milford. Bravo, Blockbuster! You have stressed to all of us the importance of the monopoly in the economy of a medium-sized town.
4. Jesus fuck, Blockbuster, your membership application requires more forms of identification than is necessary to carry purchase enriched plutonium. And what was that about signing away an acre of my land and putting my mortgage up for collateral? Not to bring up Video World again, you walk in there, rent a movie, give them your name, address and telephone number so they can kindly call to remind you that your copy of Miller's Crossing is five weeks overdue. Hardly are you so kind.
5. Of course, with the advanced computerized tracking system that you've developed in order to hold your clients accountable for their rentals, you could easily and automatically index their choices against an internal database of related directors, genres, film movements... Hell, you could recommend other movies with the same gaffer, if they really appreciated the way those lights were put on the stands.
6. A name I withheld from the above list of directors for fear it would cause repetition, but certainly one worthy to be included.
7. Not that I plan on entering your store in the near future short of arming myself with a bullhorn and a pair of those goofy disguise glasses that are apparently supposed to make you look like Groucho Marx. You do know who the Marx Brothers are, don't you?
yes, it will be spellchecked before i mail it.
To Whom It May Concern (Probably someone in management or perhaps the person who trains your zombified and arguably illiterate employees. Seriously, do you even bother to check that they have a grasp of the English language, which, by the way, is our national language, sufficient for their level of schooling? Can they perform basic motor tasks such as separating the red marbles from the black ones? You'd think that this financial crisis would motivate employers to retain only those employees best suited to generate revenue, but I don't suppose that's necessary when you have a veritable monopoly on the home video market.[1]):
Today,[2] I went into your store. I did this for several reasons, mainly because your establishment is widely known as the name in movie rentals, and I was desirous for a film, and Video World[3] didn't have it, and I've got a torrent but it's taking forever to seed and goddamn but I can't wait for the day of reliable filesharing which, of course, will mean the world no longer has need for your intrusive and suspicious society[4]. But I digress.
You see, Blockbuster, owning a video store, not that I could possibly teach you anything about it, is tricky, or so I would imagine. You have to balance a diverse clientel with uniquely sophisticated tastes, so that you don't end up in the position of wondering "Oh Jesus, does Mr. Hackensack prefer the French New Wave or New German Cinema? Oh fiddlesticks, I should really have paid attention to all those movies he's been renting from us, because now he's in a bit of a twist and can't decide and wants me to reccomend something.[5]" (Hey Mr. Hackensack! Look over there! Yes, that is 27 copies of Forgetting Sarah Marshall on that wall over there! Arranged in a way psychologically proven to promote a feeling of commerce! And so conveniently close to the checkout counter!) You really need to have a good understanding of your renters, because they come to you for a service. A service that, in this day and age, it's safe to say, mainly you provide. It could have been selling those packing peanuts that arent Styrofoam and therefore safe to eat in multiples of a thousand, but you chose movies. Good choice, I say. Film, while relatively young, is arguably one of the most complex art forms one can choose to work within, and the results can be nothing short of breathtaking. Hitchcock, Welles, Polanski, Kurosawa, Godard, Bergman, Herzog, Lynch, et al. Now, I personally would never buy biodegradable packing peanuts from a supplier who didn't know jack shit about them, and neither do I rent from purveryors of video with a similar lack of knowledge about their product, which is where we get to the crux of my annoyance, which, by the way, is the whole reason I'm writing this very drawn out letter with footnotes. Please read them.
As I said, heres the whole thing. I went into your store looking for a film, Bertolucci's[6] Il Conformista. That is the title of the film, which I imparted upon one of your register jockeys, who promptly (yes, promptly) responded with a brain dead, vacant stare. Heres where I take issue.
Number one: Your employee failed to smile, greet, or address me. This is a fucking customer service position. To me, service comes with a smile. Maybe this is too much to ask. Don't worry, this isnt my main gripe.
Number two: I am not Italian. I prefixed the title of the film with "Do you have..." The employee made no attempt at typing "Il Conformista" into the computer in front of him.
Perhaps he did not understand that "Il Conformista" was not, in fact, a cry of the Revolution, and simply was too afraid to move for fear of being singled out for reprisals. I considered that he simply did not kow how to spell it, but in that case he surely would have asked. Then it dawned on me. This young man knew nothing of Bertolucci. Figuring that the computer would also have the American title. "The Conformist?" I intoned. He typed it in. So he wasn't deaf or hard of hearing after all. I was a thought in the back of my head from the beginning, but afterwards I realized it was foolish of me to have even considered it. Surely a corporation as large and tyrannical as yours would take every chance to eliminate strange disabled people from the workplace. It's a pity this one slipped by. You might have saved me half an hour writing this, and the ten seconds that you will take to scan the first few lines and deliver it promptly to the shredder.
However, if you are persuaded by my argument, and if you should want to fire this employee for his lack of couth and his sub par listening skills, not to mention his deficiency in basic conversational Italian, the following is a rough physical description. Read this like Anthony Hopkins in the scene where they've got him strapped to that roller thing at the airport. You know, "Senator, one more thing. Love the suit!"
Five foot eight, one hundred and seventy pounds, large head, clean shaven and with hair that could double for a brillo pad if your soap started growing that crusty stuff on it like mine does. I think I have a mold problem.
Now, I think I'll say what I've been meaning to. Your employees are idiots. They know nothing of film, and therefore should not be working in a video store. Please consider hiring a film historian to assist in the training of your customer service representatives, or whatever you call them. From now on, I'm going to call them fuckheads.[7]
Sincerely,
Max Lauf
Footnotes
1. Yes, monopoly. I'm not counting Neflix, because normal people don't want to wait three days for a movie they've decided on the spot to watch,[A] or be denied a rental simply because you've lost those damn little red envelopes and cant send your DVD back. Maybe they lack such a social life that they want to rent more than 5, or whatever number it is, movies in one sitting. Not that I know any of these purely hypothetical people.
A. And then by the time Boys Don't Cry arrives in the mail shes totally not in the mood like she was that night, which is a shame, because it always makes her sob uncontrollably and then, inexplicably, want to put out. But I don't blame you for this, Blockbuster. I've lost track of my point, but I'm fairly sure I wasn't implicating you in my sex life.
2. Today, in this context, is the date I wrote this letter, not the date at which you read the word "Today."
3. Video World in Woodbury, not the one you so valiantly chased out of New Milford. Bravo, Blockbuster! You have stressed to all of us the importance of the monopoly in the economy of a medium-sized town.
4. Jesus fuck, Blockbuster, your membership application requires more forms of identification than is necessary to carry purchase enriched plutonium. And what was that about signing away an acre of my land and putting my mortgage up for collateral? Not to bring up Video World again, you walk in there, rent a movie, give them your name, address and telephone number so they can kindly call to remind you that your copy of Miller's Crossing is five weeks overdue. Hardly are you so kind.
5. Of course, with the advanced computerized tracking system that you've developed in order to hold your clients accountable for their rentals, you could easily and automatically index their choices against an internal database of related directors, genres, film movements... Hell, you could recommend other movies with the same gaffer, if they really appreciated the way those lights were put on the stands.
6. A name I withheld from the above list of directors for fear it would cause repetition, but certainly one worthy to be included.
7. Not that I plan on entering your store in the near future short of arming myself with a bullhorn and a pair of those goofy disguise glasses that are apparently supposed to make you look like Groucho Marx. You do know who the Marx Brothers are, don't you?
yes, it will be spellchecked before i mail it.