Thing That Are Terrible, No. 4: Boxed In

Technology has made nearly every form of entertainment easily and quickly available. Books can be delivered wirelessly to e-book readers, songs can be purchased and downloaded within seconds, and rental services such as Netflix make it possible to view even the rarest of cinematic treasures. In years past, watching the entirety of Akira Kurosawa’s filmography would take years and a truly exceptional public library system. Netflix enables one to accomplish the same enterprise in a few weeks, without ever having to leave the house or interact with other human beings. While Netflix presents the opportunity to enjoy cinema obscura in its myriad forms, another service allows movie fans to rent the newest releases for only a dollar per night. I’m speaking, of course, of RedBox, the kiosk-based rental business that can be found outside anyplace that sells box wine and condoms (the other two necessary ingredients for a successful movie night). Unfortunately, technology changes far more rapidly than both society and the human brain. After all, anatomically modern humans have existed for roughly 50,000 years, meaning that 21^st century humans and cavemen possess essentially the same cognitive ability. Nowhere is man’s primal incomprehension of contemporary technology more manifest than in the queue at RedBox. An early human plucked from a hunting party on the Serengeti and placed in front of a RedBox terminal would behave similarly to the numerous cretins I have stood behind while waiting to rent Black Swan. The situation is, as you can imagine, both intolerable and terrible.

In an ideal world, everyone who approached a RedBox would know exactly which movie they wanted to rent. I understand, however, that this is an unreasonable request. I also confess that I have causally perused the touchscreen after stocking up on box Merlot and jimmy hats at the local grocery store. However, when I browse through the selections, I have a general idea of the featured movies, as well as a basic grasp of what a motion picture actually is. Many customers, it seems, lack even this elementary understanding. They will furrow their heavy brows while they read synopsis after synopsis of movies whose advertisements were in constant rotation a mere three months prior. Even if you are somehow ignorant about what the movie is about, what will the description of Season of the Witch tell you that the cover art already doesn’t?

"An obviously be-wigged Nicholas Cage brandishing a sword? COUNT ME IN"

 

 

 

 

It isn’t only customers’ unawareness of what movies are out that makes any given RedBox experience unpleasant – it’s also their total disregard of acceptable social behavior. I’ve written before about both the excess and dearth of exercising civil niceties, and this is yet another example of the latter category. More than once, I’ve had to stand and grit my teeth while some dunderhead stares blankly at the screen for up to ten minutes, unable to complete the Herculean task of deciding which horrendous Kevin James comedy they want to rent. Recently, I was forced to wait behind a portly gentleman while he twice called his wife to debate the merits of the Adam Sandler-Jennifer Anniston fecal stain Just Go With It. In a truly civilized society, either this man would have stepped aside while I made my selection, or jack-booted police would have emerged from an unmarked van to bludgeon and arrest him.

I’ve spent many sleepless and movie-less nights pondering what can be done about this situation. Perhaps RedBox etiquette could be inserted into the public school curriculum? Given that I wasn’t taught multiplication tables until the middle of my junior year of high school, I don’t have much confidence in the educational system to solve this problem. Maybe RedBox could introduce technology that delivers a powerful electric shock when it detects someone has been browsing for too long? Again, this is a flawed idea; most RedBox customers are so dull that the sensation of pain may take entire minutes to reach their brains, much in the same fashion as a brontosaurus. Unfortunately, I believe that the only solution is to wait. As in all social revolutions, the time required to adjust to RedBox use must be measured in years, not months. I predict that nearly everyone will have figured out how to properly use RedBox within the next two decades. My only hope is that I will still be around when that day comes, so that I may enjoy the anxiety-free experience of renting a 4-D remake of The Zookeeper.   

Things That Are Terrible, No. 3: Unwanted Truths

As I wrote in the very first installment of Things That Are Terrible, the exhibition of certain niceties is required in order to maintain a functioning, civilized society. I discussed the various tradeoffs of this social arrangement in depth in that essay, focusing special attention on the annoying habit of strangers holding doors open for other, distant strangers. In this chapter, I will examine a different, but nonetheless terrible, aspect of living amongst other humans. This time, I’ll focus on interacting with the most dreaded of all social creatures, the acquaintance.

During my undergraduate years, I had the pleasure/misfortune to know a young gentleman who I’ll call David Nixon. Dave was a walking stereotype cut from the Charlie Brown cloth. If we lived within a cartoon fantasy world, a small, dark raincloud would be perpetually perched over Dave’s head. One time, I was walking around campus and ran into Dave. Because I had not seen him in several weeks (a strange absence, since we lived on the same floor in the same dormitory), I asked where he had been. In response, he lifted his shirt to reveal a freshly stitched incision on his lower abdomen. “My appendix burst,” he explained. If it had been literally anyone else, I would have been shocked. But for Dave, this was merely par for the course.

I bring up Dave Nixon because he epitomizes a certain phenomenon that is limited to people you don’t know very well and for whom you do not care deeply. As I mentioned, societal norms require us to exchange pleasantries with people we recognize. It’s generally understood, for example, that when you ask someone in passing “How are you doing?,” the only acceptable answer is a one-word reply along the lines of “Good,” followed by asking the same question to you. Again, this is a concession we make so that we can exist in a civilization. Neither party is truly interested in the cognitive or emotional state of the other, and both are usually on their way to a certain destination. Unfortunately, there are people, Dave among them, who do not understand or refuse to conform to this convention. They take “How are you?” not as a simple politeness, but as an invitation to launch into a checklist of grievances. Here is a hypothetical exchange:

Me:

“Hey, Dave, how’s it going?”

Dave:

“Not too good, man. Trish kicked me out of the apartment, and her two asshole brothers are there all the  time so I can’t even get my stuff. I’m also failing out of my English course because of all the classes I missed because of my surgery. I got caught in the rain yesterday and all of my cigarettes got wet, and I can’t afford to buy anymore…”

Me:

(eyes roll back into skull as frontal lobe disengages and reptilian brain takes over basic biological functions)

Being caught in these situations is the conversation equivalent of the 1979 Iranian hostage crisis; you are held captive by a fanatic whose motives are beyond your experience and comprehension. Mores dictate that you have to tolerate a certain amount of this, as it would be uncouth to yell “Eat shit, I have to get to class!” as soon as the third word escapes their face hole. You instead have to try to keep your senses keen so you can exploit any natural break in the conversation and use it to escape.

The other terrible thing about these situations is that the nature of the person’s answer makes it basically impossible to respond to them. Refer to the above example again. Keep in mind that such an exchange takes place in a public space while you are on your way to someplace. Also recall that this person is merely an acquaintance, not a close friend or confidante. What the hell are you supposed to say to something like that? If it were a real friend, you could use your knowledge of their personality and past experiences to provide some heartfelt words of wisdom. But your knowledge of this person is restricted to what they look like, perhaps their full name, and that they know some of the same people as you. The only way to mitigate the awkwardness is to quickly offer some meaningless platitudes and beat a hasty retreat.

It is said that no man is an island. Our social and biological needs require interaction with other humans to be met. Much of the time, these encounters are beneficial. Living in a society allows us steady access to food, power, housing, and so much shameful, anonymous sexual intercourse. However, there are drawbacks, ranging from the major (crime, disease, etc.) to the minor (awkward and unavoidable encounters with various weirdos). While the latter are certainly less severe, they are also more common, and thus can be considered a worthy entry into the hallowed halls of Things That Are Terrible.