I hate myself more than you do.

Waking up was hard for Bill Peters. He would typically hit the snooze button around three times but on this particular Friday morning he woke up and fell back asleep five times. This wasn’t unusual for Fridays thought.
It was twenty minutes before he was supposed to be at work before his roommate Andy had woken him up to the smell of a fresh brewed pot of coffee. Other than waking up Morning were typically very easy for Bill. Showering was unnecessary in his mind and his work clothes were already laid out on the floor from the last time he took them off.
Slipping on his clothes and running some water over a toothbrush while matting down his hair took an average of thirty seconds. This morning it took twenty eight.
Stumbling into the kitchen he found Andy reading the style section of the day’s newspaper. Finding a fresh poured cup of coffee sitting next to an already peeled orange, he sat down and began to sip.
“Your too nice to me Andy,” he said with a hollow sound provided by the coffee mug at his mouth. He wasn’t lying, Andy was too nice to him. He was undeserving of such a good roommate. He wasn’t nice, in fact sometimes it seems he was going out of his way to be mean. He was unhygienic and didn’t do any of the house work. And yet Andy still showered him with kindness. He secretly suspected Andy of being gay and all of this being just a way to get in his pants. But I wouldn’t put any credit in Bill’s opinion, he was wrong a lot.
“I know,” and said dropping muffin crumbs down onto the napkin resting on his lap.
Ten minutes had passed by when Bill had finally finished his coffee, his orange lay untouched. Rising from the table and grabbing his jacket which smelled more like smoke than usual. He had been to the foosball parlor the night before, this always left a stench of smoke on anything that was being worn at the time. In Bill’s case all of his current outfit.
Exiting the small apartment and heading to the parking lot just down the stairs Bill noticed the leaves falling down around him, he smiled and mutter to himself, “Pretty.”
Brushing dead leaves off his windshield with a familiar crunching sound he hummed a tune he heard the night before, some new song by Madonna. Bill had always found her attractive, even in her later years. Getting in his car he caught the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap cologne hit him. Rolling down his windows he pulled out of the lot and headed to work.
Airing out the smell didn’t work as Bill had hoped so he sprayed himself down with some Axe body spray and lifted himself out of the small car. While grabbing his bag from the back seat he noticed the large dent on the back of his car. Both tail lights were smashed and his license plate was hanging by a screw. Getting angry his kicked his car, shouting to himself, “When did this happen?” and “I’m going to kill the prick that did this.”
Thinking back to the night before he remembered talking to those two young girls he liked and one waving to him as he left. That was all he could remember, seeing as he was drunk. Getting home was a complete blur and this made Bill even angrier, if only he hadn’t been drinking that night he would remember the ass that did this to his car. Kicking the door as he walked away he continued to curse to himself when a boy walked by.
“Jake!”, said Bill, “going to have a good game tonight?”
“You know it coach,” the boy replied.
Bill smiled to the boy as he patted him on the back. The boy ran off into the school just as the bell was ringing. Bill slowly walked into the high school and walked into his classroom.
“Hi everybody, sorry I’m late. I forgot to set my alarm last night.”