Day 18: In the Nick of Time
IN CASE YOU THOUGHT CATS WERE DULL
Cat Esmerelda has begun leaping onto the top edge of the bedroom door. It’s a 3-stage process, beginning with yelling at me to move over in bed, since jumping on the bed is the first step. The whole procedure is fraught with peril–will she rip out my eyes when she leaps onto the pillow beside me? will she rip up my bathrobes which are hanging on the back of the door? will she fall and hurt herself? once she has achieved her objective, will she be able to get back down unaided, or will she try a flying leap onto the bed, which is still occupied, since this always happens around dawn? Too much excitement for a workday, especially since she begins by running around shrieking, a phenomenon which we call the Dawn Skrillex. Compared to this, Cat Glamour’s routine of grabbing her toys out of a paper bag, throwing them through the air, then carrying one in a Victory Parade into the hall, howling throughout, seems tame.
Today is Nick’s birthday. To celebrate, last night he came over to my house and I gave him something big, pink, and hairy.
–Intermission while Nick puts his face in his hands, moaning “I can’t believe you actually wrote that,” although he will deny doing so the next time he sees me.
Well, would it help if I added that his wife told me the following morning that their youngest son loved playing with the large, furry, pink thing? I thought so.
Intermission: “No! That does not make it better! What’s wrong with you?” Gesticulates wildly before flopping down on his couch in a what’s-the-use sort of way.
Seriously (if that word can be used of the object in question), it was a big fluffy pink birthday card with googly eyes, which sings a horrid song in a screechy voice wishing you a very hairy birthday full of cupcakes, and actually prints the words of the horrid song on the back, so we can all sing along. It is a truly terrible object, and was the only one of its kind at CVS, and I’m guessing the only one of its kind produced. I made Nick come over and get it, because I was reluctant to invest the postage to mail something of that size.
WE’RE ALL MAD HERE
If you call 911 and I ask your address, do NOT sigh heavily and say, “Don’t you have my address?” NO I DON’T HAVE THE FACKING ADDRESS, SO HOW ABOUT YOU JUST GIVE IT TO ME? HOW MANY TIMES DOES IT HAVE TO BE SAID? How long does it take to simply give the information, instead of arguing about why I shouldn’t need it? A CELL PHONE DOES NOT AUTOMATICALLY POP UP WITH YOUR EXACT LOCATION, GPS OR THE COP SHOWS ON TV NOTWITHSTANDING, YOU GOT THAT??? It often just gives the cell tower the call hit on, and if the network is very busy, that could even be one across town. I had that happen the other day. If you’re in trouble, do you really want us to be taking the time to check the database for previous calls from that number (which, again, might not have been made from the location you’re at now), if any, call the cell phone provider and see the name and address they have listed for the number, which might not still be accurate, instead of JUST. GIVING. THE. ADDRESS.? If you’re able to just hit 911 and then leave the line open while you yell at someone (and many people think that’s all they need to do), you’re able to give us your location.
Just think, you only have 17 more days to hear me say this. Here’s hoping they don’t decide that I should go around giving talks on the subject.
Somebody got robbed of a bag of groceries at gunpoint. This seems disproportionate.