It's Friday night and, exhausted from the workweek, Nerdy Squirrel, Esq. and I decide to head over to Blockbuster to rent movies.
The Assistant Manager recognizes us, as he always does, and says hello. We smile and wave, but do not stop to talk. While he's a nice enough guy, he tends to ramble on. Worse, he repeats the same awful jokes over and over, laughing each time. To me, this is an unforgivable sin. For example, I'm certain that when he rings up our rental, the price will be a hilarious four hundred and ninety-eight dollars instead of four dollars and ninety-eight cents. I anticipate interacting with him in the same way I do the jagged bit of dentist's drill.
Slipping past the counter, the smiles fall from our faces and we're all business as we break off in different directions to gather our soldiers. You see, for us the Blockbuster store is a battleground, the frontline of our ongoing trench war. Time after time, we come here to fight for inches - redrawing the boundaries of our marriage, one DVD rental at a time.
Fortunately, N.S. and I have a relationship that is based on mutual respect, cooperation and a healthy dose of fear. We each know the importance of making the other happy, or at least of not scorching the landscape in an attempt to please our self. In other words, we each want our way, but we don't want the other person to feel as if they have compromised too much. We understand the importance of winning hearts and minds.
Strangely, we don't seem to have too much trouble with the big decisions. It's the little ones, those in which the stakes are low, that really draw out our aggression and egotism. Neither of us wants to bully the other into a major, life-affecting choice. Screw something like that up, and you risk ruining your marriage. But nobody is going to pack their bags because they were coerced into watching Monster-In-Law.
Without any real risk or fear, N.S. and I are free to be the pushiest assholes that we want to be. Sure, we could opt for a win-win scenario. But among movies between two people of diverse tastes, there is always room to win a little more.
In War There Is No Prize For The Runner Up
Marching through the ranks of DVDs, we each search for the perfect recruits. Together they will form an elite unit whose mission is to win the day's battle and send home a sole survivor. My side's territory - the courageous Allies - is marked by the designations Action, Comedy and, fittingly, Martial Arts. Her side - the bullying Germans - encompasses the trenches between Romance, Drama and Foreign.
I like to start with a big gun for the initial Shock & Awe stage of the campaign. This is a hardcore pick that is not expected to survive. Its primary objective is to let my enemy know just how bad things can get if she is not willing to negotiate. Examples of big guns I like to send into the shit include Jackass (either volume), Fantastic Four, or anything from Adam Sandler. Unfortunately, N.S. has caught onto this tactic and now brings her own big guns to the party, such as The Notebook, The Lake House, or anything with Ralph Fiennes (in which he surely displays his naked ass). One unwritten rule is that you can't bring more than one big gun to the final battle. If you bring two, the other side will retreat and bring back three big guns, and so on. Before you know it, you're in the middle of an arms race.
Once the big guns are eliminated, I like to send in two or three stealth picks. These must be intelligent and well-camouflaged, exploiting some aspect of my enemy's weaknesses. Titles like X-Men ("Hugh Jackman sure is a delicious piece of man meat."), King Kong ("You love animals."), or War Of The Worlds ("It's Spielberg, for crying out loud!") make good recruits. Still, they are not intended to survive, only to divert attention.
After I have softened her with the Shock & Awe and stealth attacks, it is time for the final showdown. For this I need a lone Commando; a highly-intelligent recruit who can speak the language, get behind enemy lines, establish trust and win the battle from within. These are picks like The Prestige ("Hugh Jackman in a period piece, directed by Christopher Nolan."), The Departed ("It won the Oscar for Best Picture."), or Casino Royale ("Daniel Craig in little boy shorts. Plus, it got 94% rating on Rotten Tomatoes.).
As the Commando fights to the death, I'm not above trying to gain a moral advantage by reminding my enemy of past atrocities ("Remember Legally Blonde 2?"), offering supplemental concessions ("We should visit your mother tomorrow.") or outflanking her by offering up a chick-flick that she has recently seen (good intel is vital, or this will backfire).
When the dust settles over the scarred battlefield, hopefully my Commando is the last one standing. If not, there is no need to go nuclear. I just head back to base camp, regroup, and live to fight another day. I've only lost an inch and, chances are, there is nothing good on cable tomorrow night either.
