I'm sick. More specifically, I have a rotten case of laryngitis that has rendered me entirely mute. My mother's apartment in Boston, which I was visiting for the last 5 days, was so hot and dry that it managed to turn my larynx into a bag of Jack Links beef jerky. Of course, I'm also feverish and achy, but those symptoms play second fiddle to not being able to talk - my personal Hell.
This morning as I lay here on my bed guzzling hot tea with honey and steaming bowls of soup, I decided that I wanted to rent Steven King's "The Mist", which was released on DVD on the 24th. I realize that it was a total flop in the BO and I didn't even really like the book, but I was curious to see how they adapted the book to screen. Also, I am a huge fucking nerd.
I went to Netflix, and they have a "very long wait" for the disc to be available. Not only that, but they didn't have it available as a movie that I could watch on my laptop. OK, Netflix. You're usually my buddy so I'll let this one slide. Everybody gets one for free. I climbed out of bed, scrubbed myself like a rape victim in the shower - neglecting to shave the two weeks worth of growth on my face - threw on some wrinkled clothes and stepped out.
I drove down to my local Blockbuster. They only ordered 12 copies for the store and all 12 were out. "Why would you only order 12 copies of a new release? That is idiotic. 'Hey, we just came up with the cure for AIDS here at the hospital, but we only ordered 8 syringes.' Does that logic really work for you?!" Of course, I only said that in my head because lambasting someone in a fevered whisper isn't as satisfying. I debated whipping out a pad and pen to communicate in angry capital letters and frowny faces.
I then asked if I could reserve a copy in advance the next time one came in. They said no, and that I would have to call WHILE A COPY WAS IN THE STORE in order to reserve one. I didn't understand how that worked. Did they want me to call every 17 minutes instead? How is that a better idea than just holding onto a fucking copy for me when it came in? I explained that I lived right down the street and I would be able to rush right down as soon as a copy arrived, but that wasn't good enough. I started gnashing my teeth and surveying the showroom for sharp and/or heavy things.
The ever helpful, pimple faced Blockbuster lady then told me I could purchase a copy of The Mist in store...for $22. It was at this point that I started literally sweating from frustration. Yes, that is a great option. I would expect nothing more from a woman that looks like the goalie for a dart team. I'll buy a movie for $22 that I've never seen before; a movie that did terribly in the box office and was the recipient of countless shitty reviews; a movie so predictably bad that you only ordered 12 copies of it -- yes, please. Credit or debit? Let's do one of each! I'll give one to a friend, you fucking knuckle dragger.
I barreled out of the store and screamed back downtown in my car, hoping that Bull Moose (the local version of Strawberries) would have a copy. Of course, they don't. They do have Atonement, which would be an excellent pick if I was a single gay man who owned 27 stray cats and ate cake frosting with a spoon like a bowl of cereal. At that point my exhaustion informed me that I had over-extended my cabin fever squelching jaunt outside and that I would have to go back home and convalesce in my bed, unsatisfied and empty handed. I was defeated by a movie I didn't even want to see.
If you can find The Mist somewhere, let me know. I'm guessing it would be easier for me to drive to Bangor and ask Steven King for a copy in person, but I would probably end up strangling him with one of my shoelaces for making me suffer through Maximum Overdrive.
Posted by KungFu Mike at 7:08 PM