Hater Page 0,22
drink and something to eat from the kitchen before finding somewhere to sit and watch the TV. The other seats are piled high with the children's toys and clean washing waiting to be put away. I can't be bothered to move any of it. I sit down on the floor in front of the sofa.
Now I can't find the remote control. I upend most of the washing and turf through the toys but I can't find the damn thing anywhere. I bet one of the kids has hidden it. Josh has a habit of putting things in the bin. I check through the rubbish then under all the chairs and the sofa. When I'm on the verge of giving up I finally spot the end of it peeking out from underneath Lizzie. She's fallen asleep on top of it. I pull it out from under her. She grunts and rolls over onto her back but she doesn't wake up.
Just in time. Seconds to spare and I'm finally there. I change the channel and sit back to enjoy the film. Looks like it's already begun. Actually, it looks like it's been on for a while. I check the TV listings. Bloody thing started three quarters of an hour ago.
Saturday nights are beginning to depress me. For a while now they've begun to feel empty and, if I'm honest, pathetic. We're still young and we should be out enjoying ourselves but we're not. I always start the weekend with the best of intentions but things never seem to work out how I planned them. Family life gets in the way. I don't have many close friends to go out with or any spare money, the kids wind us up and wear us out and Lizzie and I are both tired all the time. More often than not I'm left sitting here on my own like this in front of the TV watching pointless drivel. It's almost midnight now and I've wasted hours here on my own. Liz got up and went to bed ages ago.
The film I missed was the only thing worth watching tonight. It's crazy - the more TV channels we get, the fewer programmes worth watching there are. I've been sat here with the remote control in my hand constantly flicking through the channels and all I've found has been terrible game shows, chat shows with boring guests, pointless reality TV programmes, soap operas, talent competitions, made-for-TV films, repeated dramas and crappy compilations of CCTV footage and home video clips. I've ended up watching the news as usual. It's a rolling twenty-four hour news channel which was interesting for a while but the headlines are on a fifteen minute loop and my eyes are starting to feel heavy now that I'm watching the same thing for the third time. I should go to bed but I can't be bothered to get up.
Hold on a minute. Finally there's something moderately interesting on screen. A banner saying 'Breaking News' has just appeared and they've cut to a reporter standing on a city centre street corner. I recognise where they're broadcasting from. It's a place in town, not far from where I work. What's happened there? I try to read the scrolling text captions at the bottom of the screen but my eyes are tired and the words are moving too quickly. I turn up the volume and listen as a windswept reporter starts talking about something that's happened at Exodus, one of the trendy bars right in the centre of town. There are people milling around in the street behind him. Christ, someone's been killed. He's talking about an attack that happened in the last hour or so. Hold on, no... there have been several attacks. They must have been connected. Sounds like some lunatic has gone on the rampage. Worst time of the week for it to have happened. The middle of town is always heaving with people on Saturday nights. Everyone's there. Everyone except sad bastards like me, that is, stuck at home with the kids and a partner who's asleep by half-past nine.
I can feel my eyes starting to close again. I try to stay awake and concentrate on what's being said but it's difficult. It's getting late and...
***
That bloody reporter is still talking.
I try and focus on the clock on the shelf. I must have nodded off for a few minutes. Hang on, the clock says three-thirty. I've been asleep on the floor for hours. No wonder