Looks like I'll have some more free time during the day since I kinda got fired from Blockbuster the other day.

Kinda got fired? Is that like how you kinda didn't finish your Biology For Nonscientists homework or how you kinda killed a bunch of people once?

No, it's like this—Leeza Gibbons got me terminated. At Blockbuster we have these horrible torture devices called "Trailer Tapes" which contain about two hours (seems like thirty) of previews, commercials, and Leonard Maltin rapping on about some shit and it's all hosted by our favorite RoboCop and Entertainment Tonight star, Leeza Gibbons. It's all some sort of vertical monopoly promotion thing since BBV has interest in everything being advertised.

Now, the plan is to put the tape in in the morning and let it run continuously. Fourteen hours a day for a month until we get a new one and then put that one in and let it go.

Fuck that.

When I applied at Blockbuster one reason was that I got to watch movies all day (sure, PG or less). The other two reasons were the five free rentals a week and the cool blue and khaki uniform.

But No! After a while I was told to take out those movies and watch one thing over and over all damn day long.

Now, it's not too bad on a busy night shift since I just kind of tune it out but I hardly ever worked at night. I usually worked eight hours from 9am to 5pm all alone (with no break) in a perpetually pretty empty store. And you expect me to watch the commercial for the Drew Carey show thirty-two (32) times a day?? Yeah, in your dreams, pal.

No one really minds that I watch movies on my job—my employees especially, the customers don't know I'm not supposed to, and my boss is none the wiser. But my boss' boss, on the other hand....

Christine Barr, my district manager, she minds. In fact, she gets all bent out of shape over it. I found this out the hard way when she came in while I was watching an ABBA video. She pitched a small fit and I put in a trailer tape and that was the end of it.

When she left I immediately put in Rio Bravo.

And then she fucking came back—not less than an hour and a half later and caught me again!

She pitched a bit fit, asking me why I can't listen to directions and hoping that I follow them better at my other job, to which I replied, "We have cable at my other job."

I put in a trailer tape, she fumed, and that was the end of it.

Until last week when she came in and I was watching Houseguest (from what I saw it looked okay, actually). Damn.

I was changing tapes as she walked in the door and I thought I had gotten away with something until a half an hour later she told me, "Mike, if I ever come in again and you're not playing a trailer tape you will be terminated on the spot," and again mused on my directions-following capability.

It was kind of an odd coincidence since that very day I was waiting to talk to my boss, Al, about giving my notice since it just wasn't worth all the wear and tear on my crappy car to drive thirty miles to and from a job where I work sixteen hours every week (when I could be making more money and driving shorter distances to Comcast, an albeit more frustrating job).

So I told her this, "That's kind of funny, Chris, since I was going to put in my notice today."

"Well, I think that's a good idea."

Alrighty then, bitch. If you're going to take that kind of an attitude I guess I won't feel sorry for all the things I've gotten away with and it'll be R and Unrated movies in that fucking VCR until my notice is up and I'm out of here.

I didn't actually give my notice to Al that day since I was sent home early (good riddance) and had to wait until the following Tuesday before he and I worked again. I laid it all out for him, and he was cool about it, as always. To clue you in on how cool Al is, he's one of the few video store managers I know to actually watch movies.

Everything was cool and keen when I left but when I called the next Sunday to get my schedule for the next week I was told that I wasn't on the schedule and to talk to Al on Monday.

I did.

He told me that he and Chris got into a big argument that Friday over a lot of things but one of them was that Chris was all pissy and considered that she did pretty much terminate me since I was going to give my notice. "We don't need him to work here anymore."

Oh, really? That's cool. Leave Al and my other co-workers in a lurch by getting rid of me before getting a replacement! That's what's supposed to be done when one gives one's notice. That way, no one has to work more than they should and everyone is amicable. Dumb ass.

So, that's how I kinda got fired. And I guess this whole issue is kind of a result of that—more time to work on it and an increase in the cover price (see editorial). Don't blame us! Put the blame on Leeza Gibbons (or Chris Barr).