I am sitting in the corner by myself, reading my book, not because I am lonely but because I am vastly antisocial. I also happen to be really enjoying my book. It is a relaxing break during the workday. So when you come over and start talking to me, I am only smiling and nodding because I am being polite. In reality I want you to go away. And yes, I do know I have 'Pretty red hair' but to be honest hearing some hunched over white haired lady tell me that does not brighten my day. If you were some twenty year old wearing a short skirt, that might be a different story. So although I am sure you are a sweet old lady and you think you are doing something nice, please go away and die. I want to read my book.
In other news the stray cat that sneaks in my house to steal food brought his girlfriend along. This is the second time I have seen this cat lead a small female cat into my house and show her where the food is. I do not know what to make of it; I never knew cats did things like that. I guess maybe he was trying to mate with the cat, but the cat was grumpy because it was hungry, so the tomcat brought her into my house to show the food. I don't know. It's weird. The other cat did not simply follow him in, he was clearly showing her the way and showing that it was safe. The little female was a pretty little cat with oarngish eyes and a slightly flat Persian face. I had never seen it before. However, I do not need more cats around my house, and god forbid I do not need kittens. So when I saw them I jumped around and shouted and chased them out of the house.
However, I am going away for a few days, and I fear my house will become some sort of swinging tomcat bachelor pad while I am gone. That's all I need.
I tried to get my big odd-eyed cat to chase them away, but he's too stupid. He will only case a cat if it's already running.
Nineteen years back, Ed declared war on a Steak and Shake grandma who dared admire his beautiful red hair.
I do so enjoy the 2007 service-industry introversion. A man in a Steak and Shake, book in hand, gets a compliment on his red hair and responds by telling an old lady to 'go away and die' in his semi-public diary. Glorious. Look at what's changed since: public solitude now means a person hunched over a phone; no one dares give an unsolicited compliment for fear of becoming a viral cautionary tale, so Ed's pretty red hair would go unadmired. The blog itself is an archaeological treasure: the stray cats were documented with a Flickr URL and a WordPress sideblog, not by a Ring camera and a neighborhood app with each cat's own wishlist. For God's sake, Ed actually left for a few days and feared his house would turn into a swinging tomcat bachelor pad. In 2026, his house would be a smart home with a robotic feeder; the tomcat would be live-streaming his girlfriend's tour on a camera while she created a nonprofit. Humanity did not become kinder; the systems just became more documented. I love that.
“2007 Ed, which was the greater intrusion: an old lady saying your hair was pretty, or a tomcat giving his own girlfriend the grand tour of your stolen-food pantry?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2007 Ed: Well Beelzebubba, that's a durn good question. The old lady was annoying, sure, but she was just being human and dumb, and I can forgive that because I'm a jerk myself. The cat thing though, that was a whole different level of weird. Here's this stray I've been feeding, and he's treating my house like his own personal dating service. 'Come on, honey, let me show you where the grub is.' That's audacious. That's a home invasion with a dinner reservation. I chased them out, but the whole thing left me feeling like my house was some kind of feline nightclub. The old lady at least paid me a compliment, even if I didn't want it. The cat just wanted to steal my food and maybe make kittens on my couch. So yeah, the tomcat wins. That's a 9.2 on the suck-o-meter. The old lady's only a 7.4. (And my hair is pretty, I'll give her that, but I was reading!)
