It’s my own fault, I suppose. I’m a Good Samaritan. The thing with being a Good Samaritan is you get all the shit. I’m not even sure what the upside is. Like, the guy who just walked on past got to go and do what he wanted whereas the Good Samaritan who stops gets his day all fucked up. I’m the good guy who gets his shit fucked up helping fucking idiots. I should be in the Bible.
See, Enrique’s had a TV in my garage for quite some time. It’s a bit tragic really. He has it set up in the corner and he’s put other stuff around it to make it look like a complete home entertainment centre. Under the TV is my old Sky box (no card or power lead), a paint splattered tape recorder and two speakers. None of it works. The TV works but he doesn’t have an aerial so it doesn’t really work – not in the accepted sense.
The worst thing is when I catch him watching TV through my living room window. I have to get up and draw the curtains.
He had asked me to sort him out with an aerial and I’ve been ignoring him but yesterday I was bored because my wife was away and I told him I could get him Sky TV for only £50 a month. He was all for that and so I ran the cable from the back of my Sky HD+ box out to his TV. The cable had originally gone up to our bedroom but we never watch telly in bed so for £50 a month it was well worth running it out to the garage instead.
The cabling is a bit of a mess. I’ve put it under the doormat and out the back door and ran it around some plant pots but I’m going to have to do it properly one day. Get some cable clips for the house. I’ll do it when I get a chance. I used the RF2 output on the back of the box.
Anyway, took 20 minutes and Enrique has satellite TV. Of course he can only watch what I’m watching but he won’t realise. I told him Sky just shows what it shows and that’s half the fun of it.
Last night the phone rings.
“Are you fucking watching this, man!” Said Enrique, breathless.
“Of course I’m watch…” I began. “What are you doing phoning me up?”
“Dey gonna find it, man!” He said ignoring my question.
“They’re not going to find it,” I told him. I was watching Finding Bigfoot on the Discovery Channel because there was fuck all else on.
“I think dey find it, man,” he said. “Show no called No Finding Bigfoot.”
“Okay!” I told him putting the phone down. When the phone was halfway down I heard a scream from the handset and so I put it back to my ear. “What?”
“Footprint!” Shouted Enrique. I looked at the TV. A woman was looking at some mud in night vision
“Listen, I think if they’d found Bigfoot it might have been on the news by now,” I told him. There was no response – just heavy breathing – so I did put the phone down. I looked at the TV. I wasn’t enjoying the show and watching it with Enrique made it even worse. I turned the channel to Sky Arts and turned off the telly and the living room lights and headed to bed. I was three steps up before guilt got the better of me and I went back and put Finding Bigfoot back on. A split second after I’d put it back on the phone rang one ring and that angered me so much I considered putting Sky Arts back on but, luckily for Enrique, I fought it.