I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared as this night I
walked into Blockbuster. It looked like the Ghostbusters needed to come set
some ghost traps. There were stacks and stacks of DVDs piled up. I could barely
see a path to walk in the store. I know what you’re thinking, “Who goes to
Blockbuster when there is Netflix, Hulu, Red Box, On Demand…etc?” Someone that
needs to have something immediately. That’s who. I was stressed and there’s
only one thing that cured my stress: dancing. I was looking for 2 things: A
dancing video game for my Wii (the console in “Episode 2” was PS3..fyi) and From Justin to Kelly. Okay, so I saw no
one…What do you mean why am I renting From
Justin to Kelly? I don’t think that’s important to the story. Okay. Okay.
The opening dance, “The Luv (The Bounce)” is a diamond in a movie distracted by
Justin Guarini’s hair and Kelly Clarkson’s short-lived acting career. Ah!! My
A.D.D.! Okay, so I saw no one in the store. It was just me and the two TVs
playing movie trailers. “Hello? Is anyone here?” I asked like a slasher movie
victim. “The killer’s behind you,” I thought and I turned around quickly just
to make sure there wasn’t a killer. I’m smart. I assumed the clerk (or whatever
you call these people) was in the back doing something with movies or video
games. I decided to find what I needed myself. The video game was easy. I just
grabbed something that look like it would make me feel like, to quote Lil Mama:
“my lip gloss was popping,” while I
was dancing. I couldn’t determine if From
Justin to Kelly was in Comedy or Musicals. I don’t think it’s intentionally
funny though so I went to Musicals. This was difficult looking for a real
movie. I mean Netflix knows me. It makes suggestions so I don’t have to look
for a movie. “These are large genres, they should be narrowed down in this
store,” I thought. I tripped over a stack of DVDs and all the racks in the
store fell like dominoes. I panicked, jumped, and ran out of the store like a
roach that felt the light come on in the kitchen. Mission Failed. I was still
stressed. “Wait, I could just download From
Justin to Kelly off ITunes” I thought.
Why did I even go to Blockbuster? That was stupid. I bet no one was even
there working anyways. “Goodbye to
you, Blockbuster…From Michelle Branch.”
It’s forgettable- the number of times I was called a “fucking faggot” as a kid. As a former child of god, I wasn’t expected to know what those words meant. I was taught that repentance was vital to achieving everlasting life. My momma made me go to church every Sunday. I said my prayers as I was told. But I eventually learned that Catholicism was never my sanctuary. Christianity was never my safe-haven. God never stopped the cheap shots. He never once prevented the harassment or pure embarrassment that I felt from the words of my “kin in Christ.” Now, picture me- a helpless faggot, blinded by the incandescent lights of an old catholic church. I was home from college spending Spring Break in my former hellscape. So, naturally, my momma yet again made me go to church. This time, on a Wednesday. It was Ash Wednesday. When I was among the folks from home, I felt out of place. So much that I’d imagine camouflaging myself. Like saber-tooth in hiding. But the difference? I had a far mo...
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