So it was a beautiful warm night here in Brooklyn. I heard that we have the "Fullest" moon in the sky for the last eighteen years. The store is really warm and of course everyone feels hot. I mean I can't put on the air conditioner so I had to leave the door open.
Now I had this new electrical guy come in to do some work in the back room so I couldn't be back there blogging and had to stay in the front. Which worked because I could stand in the doorway and keep people from coming in. Now you might think that is strange but after a certain hour it becomes counter productive to be open. If you are open past a certain time all you get is drunks or crazies or looki-loo's who don't want to buy anything. And if they are drunk and make the wrong comment about "Fat clothes" or "Heavy set people" I have to stop the wife from kicking the shit out of them. Not what I want to do on a Friday night.
But tonight was really nice. Everybody was out walking Court St. The bus from Atlantic City pulled up and all my mothers cronies got off. They are all eighty or older but they still like to party. They all stopped by and asked how my mom was which is nice. I told them never to take a bus in Chinatown and they all tried to hit me with their pocketbooks. Luckily I can still dodge eighty year olds.
Other people walked by. A couple of young people we know. The girl whose family owns a restaurant down Court St. The gay costume designer guy with his too little Scottie dogs. The woman who owns the store where we get all our Baptism and Communion Dresses. Lots of nice people stopped to say hello while I has hanging out in the doorway.
But then trouble. You see the bodega next door has two cats. I hate cats. I mean I really hate cats. But cats are like women. If you don't want anything to do with them they are all over you. They are always trying to sneak into my store. I don't want them coming in and getting cat hair all over the clothes. I have chased them out many a time. So we have come to an understanding. They come up to me and rub against my leg when I am in the bodega or if they see me outside but they don't come in the store. And in return I don't kick them across Court St.
You see these are working cats. Not pets. The Dominican guy who owns the bodega is not sentimental about them. And the night guy is really not sentimental at all. What freaks me out about them is that they love to lay all over the fucking vegetables in the store. Who the fuck wants an eggplant with a fur ball on it? That's why I buy my fruit and vegetables from the Koreans who look at cats as appetizers. You know they keep them away from the food. Good plan.
Anyway the little black cat comes out and is hanging outside the front of the store. He comes over and rubs against me like Meade talking to a hippie chick protester and then he goes to hang out near the vegetables in the front of the store. All of these hipster dofous idiots and young girls are all "Oh how cute...here kitty, kitty" you know like how Mike Dukakis was when he wanted a little somethin-somthin. But the cat wouldn't even look at them She would just lay there and occasionally lick her snatch or something. It was just a matter of time though.
You see this one hipster dofous smuck with a soul patch and bag full of Pabst Blue Ribbon just had to prove to his skinny skanky girl that he was the fuckin Crocodile Hunter or something. He kept trying to pet the cat and she kept moving and dodging him. I am watching him and I go "Hey dude that ain't a pet cat you know"" He goes "Is it your cat." "No he is his own cat." "Well then I can pet him if I want." So I just shrug.
Finally the cat jumps up to the top shelf of the stand where all the pineapples and shit are. I guess he figures the guy would get the hint. But this dick gets all up in her face almost like he was gonna kiss her. And the cat swings out and scratches his fuckin hand all the way down his arm. He screamed like a little girl. Me and the night guy at the bodega couldn't stop laughing.
There is moral to this story.
Be careful when you try to touch strange pussy.
Words to live by.
