I take my empty water bottle inside to the water fountain and fill it. Burt’s in his usual spot sitting in front of the TV watching CSI or ESPN. I only know his name because someone is always yelling at him. He’s a grumpy old prick, always sitting alone, and always pissing someone off. He’s beating the remote on the arm of the chair, cursing under his breath. No one pays him any attention. A nurse walks by and sighs. I can’t really blame her for not rushing to his aid. I’ve only been here a few times and even I’m tired of his shit.

“Goddamn remote.” He tosses it across the room and it skips along the white tile floor, coming to a stop in my path back outside.

I lean down and pick it up and walk it over to him. He frowns as I hold it out.

“Trouble with the remote?”

“Trouble with everything,” he grumbles as he punches at the buttons with his thumb.

“Maybe it’s the batteries.”

“Already changed them out, twice, to be sure they weren’t dicking me around. That Sharon’s got it out for me.” He twists his body in his chair and hollers over his shoulder. “Are you sure this is the right remote?”

Sharon, I presume, doesn’t even look up as she calls back. “Yes, Mister Thomas, I’m sure. I’ll send Louie over to help as soon as he gets done with bedpans.”

Burt snarls. I wouldn’t want Louie’s nasty hands on my remote either.

“I could give it a try if you want,” I offer.

He holds it out with another sigh as if I am the last person he really wants to put his trust in. Again, can’t say that I blame him. But a man should at least have TV if he’s going to sit around in this depressing place all day. I test it out, pressing the channel up button with the same result Burt had.

“It’s on the wrong input,” I tell him and hold it so he can see. I press TV and then the channel button again, this time with success.

He keeps frowning as he takes it back in a liver-spotted hand and tries it for himself. I don’t get a thank you or even an acknowledgment before I leave him to CSI.

If the options are going out young and unaware or old and hating the world… I think I’m in favor of the first. Live hard and die happy.

Desert Rose treats us to lunch after we’re done. The guys are all in good spirits. Everyone’s talking and laughing as we go through the buffet line set up for us. We’re starting to get a nice camaraderie among the group, and I hope it translates to the ice when we get out there.