But for many couples, the queue  the computer list of which films will arrive next in the mail, after those at home are returned  is as important as everything else that spouses and other varieties of significant others share, from pet names to closet space to the bathroom. For some, this is fine. For others, the queue is the new toilet seat that somebody left up.

Back to that disc at the Marino residence, dug in like an old grudge.

“I had ‘English Patient’ for more than six months,” Mr. Marino confessed. “It was an insane amount of time.” He recalled starting the same discussion with his wife, night after night, as they flipped among the five DVDs from their Netflix subscription. “Do you want to watch this? Do you want to watch this? Do you want to watch ‘English Patient?’ ”

“No,” was the response he got.

Soon, Mr. Marino could not even get the full title out of his mouth before it was shot out of the sky like the English Patient himself.

“It was like, ‘Eng  ’ ”

“No.”

“It just sat. My wife thought it would be too depressing. I’m like, ‘When are you going to be in the mood to watch it?’ She’s like, ‘I don’t know.’ ”

Image Credit... Christopher Serra

Eventually, it was returned unwatched.

Mr. Marino and Ms. Miller are not alone. Far from it. Men and women from perfectly happy partnerships report their own dysfunctional cohabitation within the confines of the queue. Once upon a time, these sorts of disagreements were sorted out in the aisles of a video store, before a movie was selected. Now, when the conversation begins, it’s already too late.