Uptight

Last weekend I wanted to rent a movie. Since I have a great pay-per-view selection on my cable TV at home, I rarely rent movies anymore. But for some reason, it seemed like a fun thing to do and the Blockbuster store happened to be right there in front of me.

As I walked in, I vaguely remembered leaving annoyed the last time I had visited the store - without renting a movie. I couldn't remember why, but continued the movie mission anyway. There is something about Blockbuster that rubs me the wrong way. Maybe its size, maybe the fact that I don't care for their movie selection. In any case, it has never struck me as a company to celebrate.

I searched for The Corporation, a documentary I wanted Monica to see. I walked around the whole store twice before I found the documentary section - probably about 20 titles. No luck.

We settled on The Life Aquatic, a Wes Anderson film, and proceeded to the checkout. I realized I didn't have an account there and would probably have to open a new account. I figured it was probably pretty streamlined by now, considering the movie rental industry is about 20 years mature. Again, no luck. They made me move to a different window and gave me a long legal sized form to fill out. My attitude toward the movie mission began to deteriorate.

The form asked for my name, address, date of birth, driver's license number, credit card number, and a series of signatures waiving various rights.

I filled out the form, getting more and more annoyed at each question and check box. It occured to me that the thin piece of plastic I was renting was actually worth less than the restroom keys you borrow from gas stations, and they don't require nearly as much paperwork. After filling out the form, I was sent back to the original window to pay my $4, and we left.

After getting only a few feet from the store, I was reminded of the security process hoops I am currently jumping through at the city for collecting similar, although much less sensitive information from those making payments on our websites. I am not, even as a pseudo city manager, entitled to possess those pieces of information even for a few minutes. The people I work for consider it far too great of a security risk. The information is processed and then erased forever in some cases.

But I had just handed over even more sensitive information to a video store clerk who would probably stuff it into a file cabinet in the back that's likely used frequently to deal with non-returned videos. Now, the staff at Blockbuster seemed very friendly, competent, and trustworthy. But video stores just seem like the kind of place that would have high employee turnover, and besides, it seems to me Blockbuster should be able to come up with a better system than paper stuffed in drawers for that type of information.

I began to become very uneasy, even though I knew many people hand the same information over all the time. The fear started... Identity theft!! Ugh.

We got home to watch the movie, and it didn't work. The picture was all screwed up. Double Ugh.

That was the last straw. I decided I would take the movie back, get my money back for the defective DVD, and get my precious paper form back.

The next day, I did just that. I was bracing for a hassle, planning my rebuttals.. but alas, the friendly, competent, probably trustworthy manager returned my money and my form without argument. He seemed a bit inconvenienced. He had to rummage through two separate drawers stuffed with forms. But was far more compliant than I expected. He did have to use a key to get into the drawers, but the key was in the cash register drawer... Not super high security.

So after getting what I wanted, I was left wondering if I was just being paranoid. I was also left with a slightly better taste in my mouth about Blockbuster, at least the Church & Market store. I feel a little bad about not trusting those people.

I may be a little uptight. But I'm glad I got my form back.