why do people want to steal my money?
I know you think my college boyfriend was the biggest mistake of my life, and maybe, up until last Saturday night you would have been right. But Saturday -- in some sort of NyQuillian stupor-- I accidentally turned in my copy of Bridget Jones's Diary to Blockbuster instead of their copy of Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer. Big mistake. Big. Huge.
I took Fantastic Four back to Blockbuster, explained what happened, and asked for my Bridget Jones back. The Blockbuster Lady looked in The Drawer of Regrets and Recriminations with all the other misplaced movies, and she was all, "Yeah, no, you didn't turn Bridget Jones in. You turned in Fantastic Four."
I was like, "Is there anywhere else you can look? Could it be in one of the cases on the shelf?"
Blockbuster Lady said, "No."
I said, "Could it still be in the check-in bin?"
And she said, "No."
I said, "I am telling you, this is your movie." I held up Fantastic Four. "And my movie is in one of these Fantastic Four cases."
And she said, "No."
Then she reached her unhelpful little hand toward the copy of Fantastic Four I was holding. I stared into her eyes with my very best I-will-frikking-kill-you-on-the-Lord's-Day glare, and she stumbled backwards. "You can have this DVD when you give me my DVD back," I told her. "You have my number."
Friday, some guy called from Blockbuster and said, "Hey, Heather, we have your Bridget Jones and you have our Fantastic Four."
"I know," I said, sinisterly. "When is Blockbuster Lady working?"
So last night I went back to Blockbuster and I walked up to the counter and I held out Fantastic Four and I said to her, "I have come for my movie. It is in a Fantastic Four case in your drawer."
"I remember you," she said.
"Then you will remember we had this same conversation last week," I told her. "Please give me my movie."
"Last week it wasn't Fantastic Four," she said.
I turned my head to A