The New York Ripper Rental

The store was dead by 9:30pm, which was typical for a Wednesday in November.

I’d already gone through the mindless task of rewinding all of the returned tapes,

restocked the New Releases wall, and wiped down the counter twice. The fluorescent

lights hummed overhead, emitting that electrical buzz that became white noise after hearing it for hours

on end. I was updating the pricing stickers in the Action section when I heard the

door chime. I glanced over my shoulder to spot a man, maybe mid-thirties,

average height, brown hair, wearing a dark jacket and jeans – nothing remarkable.

He nodded at me – that brief acknowledgement customers give when they don’t want to be bothered –