One Night in Hell

A chat show comes on about prostitutes. They are interviewed by the hostess and the audience. There is much moral debate. Angie asks us if we could imagine ourselves hiring a pro some time. Rob and I both offer rather strong "No"s, with accompanying reasons and discussion about sex, love, need, commerce. The show ends.

Angie goes to sleep on the bed. Rob makes no moves, no gestures. Angie was smart. I don't feel brave enough somehow to say to Rob what I'm thinking: "Could we turn the fucking TV off and get some sleep?". Not even delicately or nicely. Instead I say "I'll just sleep out in the hall O.K. Rob," and move to get my camping mattress unrolled there in the remaining few square feet between my laundry and and the seven doors.

Rob won't have a bar of it. "No, no, it's cool man, you sleep here." he says. We bounce the question between us two or three times. I insist on the hall. He insists not. A battle of needs, of pride. He wins. I'm weak.

Having won, his attention is glued to the TV again. I reluctantly unroll my mattress. He ignores almost everything, glued to that TV like a babe on mama's breast. I move slowly, with my mattress, sleeping bag and building my pillow (the sleeping bags stuff sack stuffed with clothes - my usual habit). All the while I'm fishing for words, excuses, prompts, opportunities to drop it all out in the hall. I leave Rob every chance to change his mind and offer me that freedom. I feel weak and lost somehow, barred by my own stupidity.

Angie mumbles "turn off the TV," in her sleep. I nod to myself.

I end up on the floor with my head near the TV and try to sleep. Rob makes no move to turn it off. He turns it down at some stage. Angie murmurs a repeated "turn it off". Rob moves from sitting on the bed, to lying in the bed, beside Angie.

She murmurs "turn it off". He replies "I'm watching it".

One show ends. Our hopes rise.

They're dashed, he plunges into the next.

Another show ends. Our hopes rise.

They're dashed, he plunges into the next.

Yet another show ends. Our hopes rise.

They're dashed, he plunges into the

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