Cameron's Cult Classics
This store is appropriately wall to wall films. There are very few empty spaces on the brick walls, the majority taken up by posters and wall racks. There are even racks of movies in the aisles, although it's not incredibly crowded. There's ample leg room for multiple patrons. Most of the films aren't everyone's cup of tea. They veer very far from mainstream, with large sections devoted to surrealist works, horror, and foreign films. There's only one rack that has the more familiar new releases, and a sign hangs above it reading Vanilla Releases. Near the entrance sits the counter, giving the clerk a bird's eye view of the entire store. Behind the desk is a door that leads into a smaller room which houses all of the actual copies of videos and DVDs. Towards the back of the store is a short corridor bathed in red light. Above the entrance to it hangs a sign that says in bold red lettering: Den of Sin. A smaller sign beneath it indicates that no one under the age of eighteen is allowed beyond that point.
A big bin of older VHS's and DVDs that haven't been rented regularly are sitting toward the entrance with a sign that reads 'VHS - $2.99, DVD - 5.99'. There's not a solitary soul in the place save for the clerk who sits behind the counter watching a very gory schlock fest. Her 'breakfast' of choice is sitting nearby on the counter — namely being a bag of nacho cheese Doritos and a two liter of Mountain Dew. Bailey props her feet up on the counter and leans back on her stool as she reaches for the bag, licking some of the orange residue from her fingers as she does. A man's talking severed head rolls past on the screen.
Steve pushes open the front door, holding it with his shoulder as he leans on his cane to limp his way in. He's never been here before, so he hesitates just inside the door to get his bearings, and maybe wonder if he's going to have to sign up for a card or something like that. He notes the girl behind the counter, but doesn't stare, then looks at the headings of the various sections, scratching a stubbled cheek.
Thank God for small favors, such as napkins. Bailey grabs one from underneath the counter and quickly wipes her hands and mouth before she waves over at Steve. "Just let me know if you need something. Feel free to look around. We're having a sale." She points toward the bin. Considering the gigantic red sign and yellow lettering, paired with the fact that it's been placed right by the entrance… it's a little hard to miss. Bailey smiles shyly in Steve's direction before going back to her film.
Steve starts eyeing the titles on the racks, then looks into the 'sale' bin, no doubt apprehensive lest he find one of his own titles in there. The last thing the guy probably needs to see at the moment is his own face looking at him from a 'clearance' rack. Deciding not to root through them, he moves over toward the foreign section instead. "Do you have 'The Beautiful Washing Machine?'" he asks.
She quirks a brow at the name of that title. Her first inclination is to ask if he's screwing with her, but instead plugs it into the computer. "Wow, we actually do. How weird is that." She crinkles her nose as she peers at the screen. "It's out right now though. It should be back tomorrow or the day after if you want me to put it on hold for you?" Bailey asks, glancing over toward the customer. "Do I know you from somewhere? You don't happen to go to The Warehouse often do you?"
"Oh," Steve says, when he hears it's out. "I don't know. Well…no. Don't hold it. I can come back if I really want it." He doesn't look at Bailey through this exchange, scanning the titles instead. But when Bailey asks if she knows him, he looks over with a kind of dread. "I don't know," he answers. "What's 'The Warehouse?'"
"It's a club. Kind of a gothy thing… they do old school goth nights sometimes. That's when I go. But you don't really strike me as the type. Still, it's just about the only place I go besides work… and I'd know if you had been in before," Bailey says simply, tapping her finger against her lips for a moment before she shakes her head a little bit and gives up trying to recollect where she's seen him before. It'll hit her later. In the mean time she pauses her movie and steps off of her stool, putting her food and drink aside. "Alright, well… let me know if you change your mind about the movie."
"I just moved to town," Steve says. "I haven't been much of anywhere." He looks at the next row. "You carry Wong Kar-Wai movies, or is that too 'mainstream' for ya?" he wonders, picking up a title by a different director and looking at the back.
Bailey lets out a quiet laugh, her cheeks flushing a bit as she does. "As long as it has subtitles or very poor dubbing, we don't consider it to be too mainstream for us." She types it into the computer, finds that it's available, and moves back toward the nearer reaches of the video store. Eventually she points toward the bottom of the rack. "Wong Kar Wai."
Steve looks unhappily at the bottom of the rack. He seems to think about bending down to get it, and even starts a motion in that direction, but he abruptly stops. "Uh, listen, can you come and get it for me? I want 'Chungking Express.'"
The request makes Bailey quirk a brow although she does in fact comply, reaching down for the tag and case. She hands them over to Steve with a smile. "Here you are. Anything else I can help you with?" She asks, amiably enough. It doesn't hurt that the customer has a friendly face. She's still wondering where it is she knows him from, the notion nagging at the back of her mind.
Steve gives Bailey a slightly embarrassed smile in return, taking the case. "Uh, thanks. …Sorry to get you up." He smiles, shrugging. "I think I'll just sort of browse around a little. You got any recommendations?"
"I try not to give recommendations in this store. I've had too many angry customers later." Bailey laughs at that before she shakes her head. "Your range probably differs from mine. You seem to like foreign fare. I guess I'd recommend anything by Roman Polanski. Not exactly exclusively foreign, but I've always been fond of Repulsion. If you don't like that…" Bailey pauses to give this some serious thought before taking in a deep breath. "Anything with Vincent Price."
Steve shrugs, nodding. "I just felt like some movies without American actors," he says. "But I guess old stuff's okay. Vincent Price is dead, right?" He glances down at the back of the DVD he's holding.
his brings a pause from Bailey as she does some mental fact-checking. "The last time I checked. And if it helps, Catherine Denevue, who is in Repulsion is French. If that's not exotic enough for you, we have a ton of Asian and Russian films. Are you in the mood for something scary or…?" She asks. It's fairly obvious that Bailey herself is into the horror scene quite a bit herself. She eyes him once more before moving a little deeper into the store. "Here's our larger foreign section. Feel free to browse."
Steve follows Bailey, leaning on his cane as he scans the racks. He frowns at one of this year's horror flicks. "What?" he asks rhetorically. "When did that come out?" he wants to know. "Who was the casting director?"
There's a brief pause before she lets out a quiet laugh. "I'm not sure. At the beginning of the year… straight to video, if I recall. Casting director? You'll have to look online. It may say on the back of the box." She moves over toward the rack and the box he's perusing, glancing to the back of it. "Edward Perry. You know him?" Bailey asks mostly jokingly.
Steve frowns at the box. "I wonder whose dick he had to suck to get that," he comments with a sour expression, putting the movie back on the rack. "He's fucking terrible. Guess that's why it's straight to video…"
Bailey stands for a moment with her jaw agape at Steve's language. Despite the fact that the city is a major metropolis, it's evidently still something she doesn't hear in the shop on a normal basis — at least outside of the television. She quickly recovers with a brief clearing of her throat before she regards Steve once more. "I take it that you do know him. Look, dude… I'm sorry. For what it's worth." Then it all hits her. She recoils a bit in recognition. "Oh." She simply says, not wanting to further agitate the man by letting on that she remembers his children's show and his epic fall from grace.
Steve lifts a brow at Bailey's surprised expression. Apparently he didn't expect to shock a horror fan with a couple naughty words. "Look, it's not like we're friends, I just—" He pulls his head back, looking her over. "What?"
"I just realized what I recognize you from," Bailey simply says, with a bashful look. She's not going to hound him for his autograph or anything like that. But she is intrigued now. "Still, tough break. But I've seen that movie. And you're right, it wasn't that great. You could definitely do better." She straightens it on the shelf and smiles at Steve a little bit, waiting for some sort of reaction. Maybe to be cursed at.
Steve turns his head a little, looking Bailey over with a little suspicion. "You recognize me. /And/…you think I woulda been better?" he asks, pronouncing the question slowly as though to give Bailey maximum time to think over her answer.
There's a long pause from Bailey before she simply nods and darts her eyes around the shop briefly. "Yeah, why not? Like I said, I've seen it. The actors were all crap. But so was the budget and script. The script wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for how bad the actors really overplayed it. I'm surprised it didn't win Razzies, to be frank." The scowl on her face seems to hold these words as an evident truth.
Steve blinks slowly at Bailey, probably thinking over what she's said. Then he nods once. "What's your name?" he asks. "I'm Steve." He puts a hand out in greeting. "Nice to meet you."
"Bailey." She takes his hand and gives it a firm shake before smiling at him. "Bailey Barnes. Pleased to meet you too." She glances over toward the wall clock behind the desk. "I should be going on break soon. You should come in again, or we could go hang out sometime or something. Since you don't really have anyone here, you said… well, y— You said you were new. It's… sort of the same."
Steve gives a noncommital gesture by combining a nod with a shrug. "Okay," he says. "So…just let me take this out for now and I'll be back to return it, and maybe pick up that other one." He lifts the case he's holding and nods toward the register.
She nods to him and starts moving back toward the register. "Normally I don't recommend signing up for the card, but there's a one dollar extra fee for every rental you take out if you don't have one. It only takes a minute and it's pretty helpful. But if you don't want to today…" She sounds like she gets a lot of refusals.
Steve frowns at whatever advertisement for the card is no doubt tacked up nearby. "Uh…nah, I don't feel like filling it out today. How 'bout next time?" he suggests, reaching in his pocket for his wallet. "How much?"
"Sure thing. It'll be an even ten." Bailey says as she types the titles into the computer and gets the receipt spitting out of the printer. "Sign here, please." She says as she points to the dotted line with a smile. "It was nice meeting you. Stop in soon again, okay?" She figures he really has no choice. Unless he uses the drop box outside.
Steve signs the receipt after he pays, then offers Bailey a more genuine smile than he's allowed so far. "Yeah, I'll be back," he says. "Nice meeting you, too, actually." What he means by adding the 'actually' is anybody's guess.
