For roughly twenty glorious years, the video shop stood as a pillar of the community, and it was staffed by a small and remarkable species of human. That species is now extinct in the wild. This field guide preserves the major types for future generations, who will not believe us.
Identifiable by a slightly manic gleam and an encyclopaedic memory. You would say 'I want something like that one film' and describe it badly, and The Recommender would nod, walk directly to a shelf without looking, and hand you the perfect tape. They were always right. Always. Nobody knows how. We have not had a recommendation that good since, and the algorithms keep trying.
A creature of pure administrative justice. The Late-Fee Hawk knew your account, knew your history, and knew, to the hour, when Aliens was due back. Approaching the counter under their gaze with an overdue tape was one of the most stressful negotiations of the pre-internet era. They could smell an un-rewound tape from across the shop.
Weary. Unshockable. Had watched literally every film in the building, twice, and several you did not know existed. You could not surprise them. You could not stump them. You would mention some obscure horror title and they would exhale slowly and say 'yeah, the ending's a mess', and you would trust them completely, because they had earned it.
Every shop had a curtained-off section at the back, and every shop had one employee who guarded it with the quiet authority of a nightclub bouncer. You were never entirely sure what qualified you to pass through that curtain, only that you did not, and that the Gatekeeper knew it, and that eye contact was to be avoided.
New. Terrified. Could not work the barcode scanner. Being trained, badly and in real time, by one of the above while a queue formed behind you. We salute them. They knew not what they did, but they were learning, and the late fees they miscalculated in your favour are remembered fondly.
The video shop is gone, and with it these fine specimens, replaced by a website that does not know you and never will. If you ever pass a surviving independent, go in, and thank whoever is behind the counter. They are the last of the line.