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Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Part Two: A Night at The Nip and The Saucer

Did you read part one, posted yesterday?  Less than 500 words, shouldn’t take too long.  Go ahead, slide over to yesterday.  We’ll wait here.  Ooooh, and if you could come back with pastries?  That’d be great.



The cat looks up innocently.  “Sorry?”

I run my fingertips over my furrowed forehead.  I really do need to stop frowning every time the cat says something ridiculous.  “My car,” I say.  “You took my car last night?”

Liza Bean Bitey, a five-pound, symmetrically striped feline with too many connections in the recreational catnip industry to be healthy, blinks up at me, her freshly de-canned Mariner’s Catch untouched. 

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” she finally says.

I stare at her.

The cat smiles up at me.  “Did you know there’s half a pack of cigarettes in your glove compartment?  I was under the impression that you had quit.”

I frown at her. 

Dang cat.

I give in and sigh.  “Whatevs,” I say.  “Tell me about le gato.”

“Un gato,” Liza Bean smiles.  Her eyes go soft at the edges for just a moment.

I wait.

“Do you know,” she says, “the building downtown, the one with the top half blown away?”

I do, indeed.  Once the home of a flour mill, a spectacular explosion around the turn of the last century had definitively and permanently removed quite a bit of brick.

I nod.    

 “And you’re aware that there’s a cat bar in the basement?”

I frown, and then quickly unfrown.  Partying with a cat is amusing and dangerous business, often calling for a prior laying in of hangover food, headache medicine, and, for the experienced, the foresight in taking the following day off.

I am lost in thought, recreating what I can recall of The Nip and The Saucer when Liza Bean clears her throat, a small and disconcerting sound in a cat.

“The Nip and The Saucer,” she says.  “You need to know where it is, first of all; and even if one stumbles upon it by chance, the odds that one will make it past the front door are dependent on so many things.  It’s not for everyone, of course, and the lynx at the front door ensure this.”

I nod.

Liza Bean adjusts her seat, arranges her tiny paws, resembling not so much a cat but a statue of a cat. Her food remains untouched.  “I’ll tell you a little secret,” she says, leaning forward conspiratorily.  “If you walk up adjusting your collar, like this”, she runs an extended claw under her collar, from one edge of her jaw to the other, “they will assume you’ve been there before.”

I had not been aware of this.  I nod.    

“I met some cats up there Saturday night, after you went to bed.”

“After you lifted my keys from my purse,” I point out.

“Mmm,” she murmurs.  “Just so.”  The cat has been reading Kipling again, and I am just about to mention it, when she stands on her hind legs, puts her paws on my shoulders.

Her ears go straight up and ever-so-slightly forward.  Her eyes shine like justice.

“It was Saturday night,” she says, “around 3:00, when two cats walk into a bar…”




Come back tomorrow for Part III, wherein Liza Bean relates a tale of late-night, kitty attraction.

23 comments:

vanilla said...

You have set the scene and are holding us in suspenders.

The kitten's breeches, so to speak.

Shelly said...

I feel like I need to break out some chips and guac- come on! Don't make us wait too long for this next part. I know it's going to be good~

Pearl said...

vanilla, that made me laugh.

Shelly, chips and guac. A woman after my own heart.

Shelly said...

I'll bring some pico, too, and some salsa that will melt your glasses. I know Liza Bean is going to hold us spellbound- that chica can tell a story almost as well as you!

Indigo Roth said...

Hmmm, this won't end well... Shall I call your insurance company?

Delores said...

Any time a cat puts her paws on your shoulders and looks directly into your eyes......

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari OM
Eeeeerrrkkkk.... had to step back from the cliff. Vertigo y'now.

YAM xx

Steve said...

That is a clever, funny story.

Daisy said...

It's good to know that part about adjusting your collar as you get to the door. I'll file that away in case I ever need to use it. :D

jenny_o said...

So, if you're ever planning to go to that bar, don't forget to get a collar, and don't be cheap, get the one with rhinestones.

Starting Over, Accepting Changes - Maybe said...

Waiting for the last installment to comment. Oh, that Liza Bean.....

Jacquelineand.... said...

Have you considered yarnbombing Liza on those nights when you don't want your car leaving without you?

Although I suspect Miss Liza would make you pay...

Jacquelineand.... said...

Have you considered yarnbombing Liza on those nights when you don't want your car leaving without you?

Although I suspect Miss Liza would make you pay...

Dawn@Lighten Up! said...

Two cats walk into a bar: the beginning of many a good story. :)

jenny_o said...

@ Jacquelineand: Yarnbombing! I JUST heard about that (we're way behind here). Can you do that to a cat without incurring an ER visit?

wellfedfred said...

More, more!

Elephant's Child said...

Mistress of the cliff hanger. I will be back (but probably without pastries).

bill lisleman said...

takes your care AND rummages through the glove box! That cat needs to do lots of mice catching to make-up.

Gigi said...

And there you go keeping me on the edge of my seat.

HermanTurnip said...

A blind man walks into a bar. And a table. and a chair...

The Chicken's Consigliere said...

"I didn't think you'd mind"
Not sure why that kills me. You're killing me softly with your words, Pearl.

River said...

Saturday night around 3.00?
No wonder cats sleep all day if that's their partying time!

Diane Tolley said...

Never, never make eye contact! First rule in inter'cat'tion.