American Ritual:
Young couples going to Blockbuster to rent movies. Perhaps they just finished fornicating and, wanting to remain in each other's company for several hours, they decide to watch a film. Or perhaps they have yet to complete this night's fornication; a film being an excellent starting point. Characteristics of this ritual include much petting and holding while in the sterile well-lit rental store. The man often walking behind the woman with his arms on some part of her body. The female seems to be leading the expedition gabbing about various films, actors, actresses. Oftentimes the men and women are wearing loose fitting, extremely casual, unflattering gym pants--further proof that they are in a post-fornication stage--they just threw on the easiest, quickest fitting clothes. This seems especially cogent an argument with regards to the women. The couples fancy themselves in their own world, populated only by them, with all others irrelevant. They draw out the ritual as long as possible, spending perhaps thirty minutes milling about the video store.

I know this because I am notoriously indecisive and must spend an equal amount of time mulling over different film possibilities. But I must only reach a consensus with myself as to what film to watch--as I invariably perform these rituals in the company of loneliness. That distract unstoppable, everpresent stream taking up precious conscious resources.