They say that VCR rental stores are dying because the world has moved on in the age of high-speed internet and flat screen blu ray players. This would explain why the "Big Mike's" video store of Green Peak, Maine, was still going strong.
I parked the truck in one of seven or eight spots outside the store and got out. The parking lot was old and bare, like a perverse combination of a war zone with the world of commercialism and concrete. I suppose some people would call it folksy.
As I swung open the glass door, a few old leaves skittered away in random hops and jumps, like frogs on crack. I stepped on one and tracked it into the store, but I didn't waste time wiping my boots. I had no doubt that I'd improved the decor. It could have been my good deed for the day, if I hadn't quit the boy scouts to get away from that junk.
I headed to the thriller section and had just discovered that all the "recent releases" were two years old when I realized something: everyone in the store was looking at me.
There were quite a few of them. Like I said, the video store was the best source of entertainment around. I could see an old couple by the romance, some creepy looking fat nerd by the sci-fi, an old military dude in the back, and three middle-aged ladies who look strangely similar checking out. Given that this was a small town in Maine, I would have thought that the inhabitants would have made a larger effort not to look like they all crawled out of a Stephan King novel.
I grabbed a copy of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. I might be able to stand this summer if I had Harrison Ford to help me through it.
My main character turned out to be more of a cranky whiner than I expected at first. He'd probably turn out to be alright if we got to know him better. But we won't. So... yeah.