Returning a Movie Rental on Time

Impossible?

Day 32-Year 3

Team Zybko

July 8, 2014

I can count the number of times I have successfully returned a rental movie back in one days time, no fee acquired. Let me see, never. It shouldn't be that hard, I realize this. I am positive though, some of you out there can do it, right?  

Placing it in my slightly bent mini van visor doesn't work, laying it on top of my keys hasn't helped, shoving it in the pool bag almost worked once but then it rained. Taking it on a long distance road trip, now that's a new one for me, rock bottom I say. No more rentals for me. Maybe cheaper for me to dig head first into the $4.98 bin at Wally World and call it my own, forever. 

We had just a few simple errands to cross off our list before hitting the road to my sister's house in Illinois. Exchange a basket full of library books for easy entertainment. Fill the Golden Bullet up with gas and return the Red Box movie. No prob Bob. They were all within a few square miles of the 77 North on ramp. The ramp that would conveniently welcome and begin our great adventure of the summer out to dairy country. 

Library-check

Gas-check

Red box Movie-nope, gonna be late AGAIN!

Hmmmm, we somehow got too sidetracked to complete that mission, too scatterbrained to remember to slide the thin plastic case into the, well, red box and move on with our lives. Something about a bottled mocha Frappuccino, blue Gatorade, not the dark blue kind cause that color is really gross but I mean the original blue colored one, a small bag of salt and vinegar chips and an ice cold Coke in the old school bottle cause I owe so and so a few dollars and it will look great on my dresser when we get home and mom, he took my seat, this totally wasn't a real stop to switch...blah blah blah type of conversation.

Zooming across miles and miles of iSpy, low battery iPods and crunchy almonds packed in plastic containers, there it was, with us the entire time, it sat, enjoying the view as much as us.  I discovered the delinquent one night rental hiding under the captains chair behind the passenger seat, somewhere between the 498th corn field and the fateful pit stop when the tap water began tasting a little too much like metal. Ugh. Since the Red Box racket hasn't hit small town USA I shoved it back under, to worry about later, a la Victoria style. Unlike my passengers it obediently stayed quiet and content for the next 1,600 miles, happy to share the crowed space with a few broken crayons and a torn chocolate smeared granola bar wrapper. I can't even remember the name of the movie I paid $14.57 to watch. Lesson learned.