Dec 28 2007


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Greg, sitting at the bar of the pass-through and working on a plate of scrambled eggs, looked down at the kitchen floor. There, Ozymandias was making short work of a dish of tic-tac-toe-shaped cat food. “You know,” Greg said, “this cat is awesome.”

“Oh?” said Brigid, not looking up from her newspaper.

“Indeed,” Greg said. “Look at all the different ways he’s awesome.” He put down his fork and began counting off on his fingers. “First, he won’t cut you off in traffic. And he won’t honk his horn at you when you were clearly the one who had right-of-way.”

“I suppose he won’t, at that,” Brigid said.

“He won’t charge you too much for healthcare. He won’t insist on putting a pickle on your sandwich when you very clearly said, ‘No pickle.'”

“That’s awesome, is it? You’re easy to please.”

Warming to the subject, Greg spread his hands. “He won’t spell your name wrong. He won’t irritate you by saying he ‘could care less,’ ‘axing’ you a question, or by putting a ‘t’ in ‘across.’ And he won’t try to put some kind of a guilt trip on you as if you were the jerk for getting annoyed at those things.”

“He won’t talk on his cellphone in the bathroom,” Brigid added.

“He won’t call you in the middle of the night, realize he’s got the wrong number when you answer the phone, hang up without a word, and then dial your same stupid number again three minutes later,” Greg continued.

“He won’t insist on making text edits to the printer’s blueline!”

“He won’t rattle your windows from two blocks away with his stereo!”

“He won’t schedule an hour meeting at 11:45!”

“He won’t — hey!” Greg jerked back in surprise; Ozymandias, apparently aware that they were talking about him, had jumped up onto the counter, and promptly sat in Greg’s breakfast. “Cat–!”

Brigid smiled as Ozymandias began licking one of his own legs. “Yup,” she said. “He’s awesome all right.”

-The Gneech

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