I’m lying on my couch watching This Gun for Hire, a film noir classic from 1942 starring Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake. I made myself linguine in white clam sauce earlier for dinner and chased it down with two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc. Now, as my stomach noisily digests the mash of pasta, clams, and white wine, my eyelids start feeling heavy. My joint custody dog Buster whimpers softly as he sleeps near my feet. Probably chasing a squirrel though canine dreamland. I look at my watch. It’s almost eleven o’clock on a Friday night.Ā  What an exciting life I lead.

As the black and white images on the television screen tell the story of a killer’s brutality and eventual salvation, I think about other movies I’ve seen with similar themes. Whether its James Cagney’s tough guy in Angels with Dirty Faces or Luc Besson’s illiterate hitman, Leon, in The Professional, I’ve always enjoyed stories about people who redeem their lives at the last moment through acts of truly selfless heroism. Maybe that storyline appeals to my hardwired Catholic sensibilities. Anyone can be saved, everything will be all right in the end. That’d be nice.

Suddenly my roommate shouts from inside his bedroom, ā€œFREE PORN!ā€

ā€œWhat?ā€ I say, rousing myself from my sleepy theological reverie. ā€œWhat did you say?ā€

ā€œCome in here!ā€ my roommate shouts. ā€œBefore it goes away!ā€

Much to Buster’s annoyance, I toss aside my blanket, get off the couch, and walk into my roommate’s bedroom. When I look at the LCD television on top of his dresser, my eyeballs are immediately greeted by the sight of two shapely, naked, and big breasted women doing intimate things to each other. Well, they’re almost naked. But somehow I don’t think thigh high leather boots counts as clothing

ā€œWow,ā€ I say, involuntarily.Ā  Impressive breasts always make me say ā€œwow.ā€ I think that’s hardwired into my system too. The nuns of my youth would whip me with their rosary beads if they could see me now.

ā€œI told you someone was watching porn over at the cable company,ā€ my roommate says. ā€œNow do you believe me?ā€

ā€œHow do you know that a person’s watching it?ā€ I reply. ā€œMaybe it’s just a glitch in the system.ā€

ā€œKeep watching,ā€ my roommate says. ā€œYou’ll see.ā€

My roommate and I continue watching the ā€œactressesā€ as they grind against one another with practiced enthusiasm. The moaning and groaning coming out of the television speakers, however, sounds like someone in the throes of demonic possession instead of orgasmic rapture. Then, without warning, the film fast forwards to a part in the scene where the actress are, ah, a little more exposed.

ā€œā€Holy shit!ā€ I exclaim. ā€œSomebody’s watching porn at the cable company.ā€

ā€œThey’re probably jerking off right now,ā€ my roommate says.

ā€Probably.ā€

ā€œWe should call the cable company and complain.”

ā€œNah,ā€ I reply. ā€œI’m not going to get some guy in trouble just because he wants to rub one out at work.ā€

ā€œHow do you know it’s a guy?ā€ my roommate asks. ā€œIts two lesbians having sex. It could be a woman watching.ā€

ā€œOnly a guy would be stupid enough to watch porn and jerk off at work.ā€

ā€œTrue,ā€ my roommate mutters. ā€œTrue.ā€

Buster decides to make an appearance. He walks into my roommate’s bedroom, looks at the television for a full 30 seconds, and then walks out – unimpressed.

ā€œBuster doesn’t like porn?ā€ my roommate asks.

ā€œWhy watch porn when he can see the real thing?ā€ I reply.

My roommate laughs. ā€œI’ve seen what happens when you try kicking him out of your room. He goes nuts.ā€

“Oh my God,ā€ I say, shaking my head. ā€œThe whining and scratching at the door got so distracting that I finally had to start letting him in the room.ā€

ā€œDoesn’t he bother you?ā€

ā€œHe usually hides under the bed or falls asleep on the easy chair in my bedroom. Occasionally, however, he tries joining in.ā€

ā€œA threesome?ā€ my roommate asks, grinning.

ā€œNothing like being in the throes of passion and having a hairy dog trying to lick your ass,ā€ I reply.

ā€œOh no!ā€

ā€œWhat can I say? Sometimes dogs just wanna have fun.ā€

ā€œWhat do you do when Buster does that?ā€

ā€œI toss him back under the bed saying ā€˜The woman is mine!’ He usually gets the hint.ā€

ā€œThat’s so weird.ā€

ā€œTrust me,ā€ I say. ā€œMost couples that have dogs encounter this problem.ā€

ā€œHow about cats?ā€

ā€œThey just sit on the headboard and watch. Very creepy.ā€

ā€œI’m never getting pets,ā€ my roommate says. ā€œNever.’

Suddenly the video fast forwards again. Now a man and woman are on the screen. Dissatisfied, the viewer at the cable company fast forwards past the obligatory ā€œdialogueā€ until he gets to the part where the ā€œactionā€ starts.

ā€œSo why do you get free porn on your TV and I don’t?ā€ I ask.

ā€œBecause the digital signal going to the plasma in the living room gets filtered by the cable box,ā€ my tech savvy roomie replies. ā€œMy digital television’s hooked up directly to a coaxial cable so there no way to block the signal.ā€

ā€œThe TV in my room’s hooked up directly to cable,ā€ I say. ā€œWhy don’t I get dirty movies?ā€

ā€œBecause the TV in your bedroom’s not digital. It’s analog. You won’t get the signal.ā€

ā€œSo the only way anyone can see free porn is if their hi-def television get its signal directly from a coaxial able and not the cable box?ā€

ā€œExactly.ā€

ā€œHow many people hook up their expensive hi-def televisions to coaxial cables and bypass the cable box?ā€Ā  I ask.

ā€œAlmost no one,ā€ my roommate replies. ā€œBy using the coaxial you don’t get all the channels you’re paying for and the hi-def signal’s not as good.ā€

ā€œLooks like our porn loving friend at the cable company found a loophole in the system,ā€ I say.

ā€œThat makes sense,ā€ my roommate says. ā€œHe can watch his porn in the control room and almost no one will notice.ā€

ā€œExcept us.ā€

ā€œThese cable people are idiots anyway,ā€ my roommate says. ā€œA couple of months ago a mother ordered a Disney pay per view movie for her kids and got porn instead.ā€

ā€œSound like someone mixed up Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs for Snow White and the Seven Whores,ā€ I reply dryly.

ā€œHuh?ā€

My roommate’s from a far away country, I explain to him that many porn movies take their titles from established Hollywood films.

ā€˜Little Oral Annie?ā€ my roommate exclaims. ā€œThat’s disgusting,ā€

ā€˜You should see what they did with Forrest Gump,ā€ I reply.

ā€œI don’t want to know.”

As I watch the man and woman frenetically humping each other on my roommate’s television screen, I chuckle to myself. Come to think of it, there are probably porn equivalents of The Professional and Angels with Dirty Faces too.Ā  I wonder what the San Fernando Valley would do to This Gun for Hire?Ā  Hmmmm.

ā€œOh wellā€ I say, ā€œThat’s enough fun for me. I’m going to finish watching my movie.ā€

ā€œYou’d rather watch that old stuff than this?ā€

ā€œMy movies have better dialogue,ā€ I reply. ā€œBesides, life’s too short for bad porn.ā€

ā€œYou’re right,ā€ my roommate says. ā€œGoodnight.ā€

I flop back down on the couch and finish watching a young Alan Ladd trade shots with an impossibly young Robert Preston. When the movie ends I floss and brush my teeth, check the locks on the doors, and go to bed. My dog burrows under the covers and takes up station near my feet – but otherwise my bed is empty. No “real thing” for Buster to watch tonight. As I drift off to sleep, images of Veronica Lake and the two lesbians in thigh high boots compete for space on the back of my eyelids.

What an exciting life I lead.

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