Male

As you stand there holding the remote, you notice that there's no brand name, model number, or serial number on it. You turn it over. Just a cheap plastic remote that looks like it's at least ten years old. It has some buttons that you recognize: "pause," "back," "forward," numbers 0-9, up and down arrows, and a couple of buttons with just symbols on them.

What a waste of time, you think to yourself. You pocket the remote and climb back in your car. The only eventful thing that happens on your drive back to your apartment is you pass a bus with the WROP logo on it. That's the station where you used to work, before you got fired for having a one night stand with the married female co-anchor. When it became known around the station that something was going on between you two, she accused you of sexual harrasment. She told your boss that the two of you met at a hotel only because she wanted to set you straight. Since she was a very popular figure in the local community, and you were just a film editor and cameraman fresh out of community college, you were the one who got the axe. No questions asked, no investigation as to the veracity of her claims. Word spread among the three stations in town about the whole incident, and soon the only job you could get was as a doorman at a nice apartment building downtown. The only good thing about the job was that you got a cheap, studio apartment in the basement of the building.

When you get back home, you pull your late model car back into its designated parking spot and consider what to do with the rest of your day. Watch some TV, maybe, catch a nap, try to hook up with some friends?