The Chandlers sure are taking a long time to watch their latest movie. I hope everything’s OK. They’re usually so efficient at watching and returning. I remember thinking, “Whoa-ho! Netflix must hate the Chandlers. They really get their money’s worth.”
I guess they could have dropped the movie into one of those big blue USPS mailboxes, but why would they? Their mailbox is right outside their front door—and it’s wall-mounted. It’s easy to just slip it in there. I’ve even seen the little one, what’s-his-name, Randy, stick a letter out there—and he barely needed to open the front door.
I’m off on Wednesdays—that’s when Tim covers my shift. I thought they might have returned the movie on one of those days. But Tim said no, that he would’ve remembered a pickup like that. Tim’s right. There’s no way he’d forget a Netflix pickup. I think I insulted him by even asking. Shit. And after all Tim’s done for me.
If that movie is still in the house—and I pray to God it isn’t—I really hope the Chandlers are on the least-expensive plan. Two rentals a month or something. But I think that limits you to one movie out at a time, so they’ve got to get this one back soon or they’ll just be blowing it. Blowing it! They’ll pay for two movies and only see one.
It’s puzzling. I know if there were a movie at the top of my queue that I was itching to see, I’d be sure to send back the one I had so I could get the next one ASAP. I guess nothing on their list is making them want to crank through one movie to get to the next. Maybe they need to reassess. You know, take a look at their queue and rethink things. For example, it helps to mix up the order based on genre. That’s probably Tip No. 1—and I learned it the hard way. One time, I watched 21 Grams, Requiem for a Dream, Hotel Rwanda, and From Justin to Kelly one right after the other. Nearly killed myself. Especially after that last one. But I learned.
I’ve got a ton of other ideas that I just know could help the Chandlers. But I don’t want to seem like I’m imposing my tastes on them. Who knows if we even share the same film preferences? Plus, what if I make a fool of myself? Like when I asked Mr. Dawson if everything was OK at work because I noticed his paycheck stopped coming in the mail. That was the first time I’d ever heard of direct deposit. Boy, did I feel like a jackass.
Still, I find it disturbing that the Chandlers would let a movie just sit on their TV this long. I know there are no late fees with Netflix, but that’s the kind of marketing maneuver that ends up screwing customers. They know they can just sit on the movie without penalty. Meanwhile, their credit card gets charged each month no matter what.
But the Chandlers never seemed to fall into that trap. They’d keep a movie a week, week and a half tops. Their Netflix habits were as regular as the clicks of a metronome. Damn it, what’s going on?
I know they’ve got dough to burn—he’s a tax attorney, she’s a pediatrician—but still. Nothing’s changed so far as I know. Old man Peterson a couple doors down says both of their practices are booming.
I guess things get hectic when you add to those high-pressure careers three kids, a dog, and, I think, a bird (I heard chirping in there once). Whatever the reason, the Chandlers are turning into exactly the kind of customers Netflix loves.
But why the inertia all of a sudden? That’s what’s so baffling.
I hope things are going OK—personally, I mean. I know he’s been working later and later. And she seems stressed. Last Saturday, she was short with me. She was gardening, and I went to hand her the mail. Without even looking up, she said, “Mailbox.” That’s it. That’s all she said. One word, and it came out snippy. In her defense, she was pruning her hydrangeas and had sharp shears in her hands, so I guess I can attribute her terseness to her concentration.
But I bet something is going on. If there’s turmoil in the family, movie night isn’t going to happen. It’s just not. And I feel for those kids.