I woke up with visions of torture out of Hostel.

In retrospect, the movie ’tweren’t bad. Over the long haul of waking up the next day and getting on with my life, it kind of stuck. Visually and mentally. That’s probably tops for any director’s wishlist.

And it didn’t end there.

I’m sitting in a beauty salon waiting for my man. Because, like, you know, dating a beautiful person is all about being there for them in making the beauty happen. It ain’t like magic or anything. Unhappily, at the time, my hair looked like absolute shit, pigtails, over-long bangs and the whole mess of it flattened by sweat from the gym. One regret of my relationship is living with a fella who be prettier than me.

I’m minding my own business, tooling with my Sidekick, some other chick sitting there, a propos nothing (as the cliche runs) pipes up with a “It’s tough to relax, after Hostel.”

“Uh, huh, what?”

So we started talking about the movie. She said something that sounded like she saw it a week ago. But, it opened in the U.S. this past Friday, so, um, yeah, not sure what she said. Suffice it to say, she seemed a bit fucked in the old melon.

As Morgan, clip, clip, clip, had his hair trimmed, I embarked on what seemed at first like it could be a mildly diverting convo. Instead, it drained right into what could possibly have been my first truly dull, mind-numbingly boring exchange, of the new year.

“I couldn’t believe it. I got a call from Blockbusters, but not from here, she was from Southern California. They wanted to talk with me about a job and had I met with a manager, you know. I had sent my resume month’s ago and I was, like, you know, I’m not going to get this job. No way. They’re just wasting my time, but, like, I figured I’d see, you know. She said I should report to the Redwood City Blockbuster’s and I figured, yeah right, nothing is going to happen, but I went. It’s awesome. You get FIVE, five free movies a month.”

All I could think was “five?” What the fuck? Shouldn’t it be one every night.