Inside the bombed-out battlefield of the last days of a Blockbuster liquidation sale

My journey from cubicle to dinner table to Starbucks this afternoon gave me pause. I complain - often at length - about everything under the sun. But I generally have a good life.

I have a job (for the moment), with benefits (crappy, but they pay for my pharmaceuticals). I get to see about 65 amazing plays and singers each year - even Liza Minnelli and Johnny Mathis. And I make (mostly) enough to support my two-mocha a day habit.

What brought this bout of melancholy on?

I walked into a Blockbuster that was having a liquidation sale. That will put your life into perspective fast.

The smell of misery permeated the place.

This is how I would describe working in the final days of a Blockbuster liquidation: A bombed-out blue and yellow battlefield populated by the living dead, walking skeletons with the shreds of commerce still hanging from their bones - DVDs and whatnot - watching powerless in silent horror as the customer carrion crows pick over your flesh.

I could not imagine working at Blockbuster during these days. Trying to do your best even while knowing that your job would disappear within the next few weeks.

The scene inside the store was not quite that bad - it was the most merchandise I've ever seen inside a Blockbuster; movies were stacked four and five deep on the shelves. There was even a huge rack of movies in plastic sleeves - they were even selling single discs out of TV season sets.

Why would I pay $3.99 for two episodes of "Deadwood?" It begs the question. Someone must be buying.

They're not serious about clearance - not yet. The prices haven't dropped below what you can find the stuff for on Amazon.com or other Internet retailers.

And any sympathy I had for the employees vanished when not one but two of those hulking convict-types that they've convinced to staff this particular Blockbuster to the bitter end decided to follow me around as if I was going to shoplift. Fools. Their combined IQ might have equaled the speed limit. In a residential neighborhood.

It wasn't a casual "check the customer out" type thing - they actually followed me for about ten minutes. I was severely irritated. Severely. I know that there's no "profile" for shoplifters - but seriously people - do I really look like I'm going to steal your obsolete and previous generation media products?

I didn't buy anything. I honestly don't know the last DVD I *did* purchase. Possibly the second season of "Doctor Who." I used to watch a lot of television, then I just started reading more.

Anyway. Walking out of the store and driving to Starbucks, I realized just how lucky I was.

I have a lot of issues - a lot of issues - but I have a job, a home and the freedom to pursue all the iced venti marble mocha macchiattos I can drink.

I'm not stacking 40 copies of "Sex & the City 2" on a table and scribbling $7.99 - EVERYTHING MUST GO in permanent marker on signs. Nor am I following bored housewives around a liquidating Blockbuster on the off chance they shovel a copy of "The Blind Side" into their Coach purse "because Sandra was good in that!"

I think I'll have a Cake Pop and download the latest episode of "Glee" from the Internet.