A Man and His Cat

It's only fair that I preface this story with a confession: I was once a bachelor that owned two cats. I owned the cats because of a long-term relationship I was in, and it took more than two years of being in the relationship for me to cave in to her nagging requests. Don't confuse this as an excuse, it's not. There is no excuse for a single man (who desires the opposite sex) to own any cats. This is purely an explanation. In my defense, when the breakup was official, I got rid of both cats in under two weeks.

Now onto my brief story. I was sitting in the cafeteria here at my work during lunch. I usually sit alone because the mean age here is approximately 3 years deceased. I have an acquaintance (and I use that term loosely) who occasionally makes small talk about Jesus (not into), his love for the local country radio station (not into), his recipes for pies (don't like pie), his mother (who I don't know), and his cats. Unfortunately, I was blessed with a horrible skill.

This skill is that I have a knack for responding and appearing interested in conversations I'd wish never existed. I have my opinions like the next person, but it's an unconscionable-incurable-chronic illness I fall victim to. It's better to roll with the conversation than be an ass.

Anyways, I've established said relationship with this man. So the story continues...

I'm sitting there (still alone) and he sits down at his typical distance from me. It's a distance that isn't quite far enough where he needs to yell to communicate, but it isn't close enough where using an inside voice is efficient (plus I have poor hearing; that doesn't help). So he sits and begins to talk about how beautiful Sunday mass was with his mother this past Sunday (Yesterday). All I can think about is how happy I am he's addressing two of his usual topics of focus with a single story. I'm half paying attention with more of my attention directed to how I'm still upset Ben Roethlisberger has a shot at a third Super Bowl title after being accused of rape less than a year ago.

At any rate, my mind isn't in the game, but I'm still nodding and offering the occasional term of endearment regarding his gorgeous Sunday (Fucking Roethlisberger...) with his Mother. This is about the time I determined this wasn't a typical man.

Another co-worker (a nice Indian fellow who I've never been able to figure out the name of) sits down between us. He informs us both that our manager we report to (who is, no joke, over 70 and has worse topics of discussion than the pie baker) lost his mother. Immediately two thoughts go through my head, A) that's sad (as it is when anyone loses a loved one) and B) 'Christ, how fucking old was she!?!' Regardless, I said "that's very sad and I'll make sure I send him my condolences when he returns." What did mother-lover have to say?

It was short and to the point; "one of my cats died last Tuesday, I've been a wreck." I think myself and the Indian guy both were thinking 'what the fuck, where'd that come from!?!'

You know those moments in life where it feels like your brain is traveling at light speed resolving questions? You know, when all the sudden the million dollar question in your head suddenly gets it's answer? Well, this guy hadn't missed a work day since I have been working this program (which is going on a year or so). I noticed last week that he was suddenly missing from mid-week through Saturday. I was curious what the deal was and suddenly I knew. I began to feel very accomplished in my Sherlock Holmes skills.

The Indian guy then has a follow-up question; "sorry to hear that, what happened - was it old age?"

His response?

After tearing up a bit, he responded,"Mr. Mittens got his penis cut off four years ago, the vet thinks it was related to that. He was 13 though and had a wonderful life."

That was the end of the entire interaction. Myself nor the Indian guy had a response. He went one way and I continued to eat my sweet and salty trail mix hoping nothing more would be said. After three minutes of silence and him muttering the occasional sound of recovery from his temporary meltdown, he got up and left.

I had two revelations from this event.

First, this guy is absolutely over 40 years old and a virgin.

Second, if anyone reading this knows me, don't ever let me own another cat...ever.