12 July 2004
69
R. Linda:
The last I left you, I was considering looking at flats to get away (far, far away), from the Pee Cat and smelly abode. I set up two appointments with a property manager to look over a new place to live, sans Pee Cat. What I was offered was far less desirable than where I was, Pee Cat, smell and all. In me upset I rang up me old friend Alison, who got me into this predicament in the first place, and I asked her how it came to be that me, who does not get along well with cats, ended up living with one.
As it turns out, it was all a horrible mistake, in that Alison's cousin Nadia Demidov misunderstood all the negatives but she changed them to positives. What that means is Nadia (who is from Chernobyl - yes, the town that glows in the dark), got messed up in translation that when Ali stated I was a "native" Irish, she only heard native and somehow I became "native" Russki. Ali also told her I did not get on well with cats and this Nadia interpreted, as I could not live without one. There you have it, the way the Pee Cat and I ended up together in the dark Kremin that is me flat.
I asked Alison to fix this, or I was moving out. Now thanks to your kind self there, R. Linda, I have made the stock rise in the Febreze company. I also found out from my former neighbour Tonya, that a professional house cleaning service would do the trick IF the cat goes. Within hours Alison had me back on the phone telling me Nadia's Uncle Boris was on his way to pick up the Pee Cat and I would be cat-free for the rest of my stay.
I quickly gathered up all of Pee's belongings set them at the door and sat meself down with a cup of Bewley's best, waiting for the arrival of Uncle Boris. I didn't have long for there was a hard rap upon the door and the vibration from it (that even had I been dead), I'd have heard. With trepidation I opened the door and there in the dim light stood a huge man of 6' 4" and nearly 450 lbs. He took off his fur hat, yes Linda, one of those fur things in the middle of the summer yet, and proceeded to smile down at yours truly, who stands a good 6' 2". He had the smile of a Jack O'Lantern with a huge gap between his upper front teeth. I bid him come inside and don't you know it, that stupid Pee Cat gave a cry of delighted surprise and bounded over to him, tail in the air like a banner and up into his arms! Oh, that traitorous cat!
I saw he was wearing an equally heavy long coat and I asked to take it. He gently put that arrogant cat on a chair and shrugged his way out of the great coat. The smell of body odour hit me (and it would since it was summer, and here be this large man in a wool greatcoat. He sat down as I stumbled off to hang the offensive garment near a window. All the time I was doing this, I was wondering why the body fat he wore didn't keep him warm. San Francisco is a cool place but not for a wool great coat in the month of July.
I offered him some of me Bewley's which he narrowed his eyes and asked, "What is this Booleys?" At which I explained it was Irish tea. He nodded, I poured, he tasted, and looked at me and said, "Takes a 'required' taste like your whiskey!" And with that, he set the teacup down, grabbed a bottle of vodka from the shelf behind him and added more than a drop to his tea. Then he took a slurp and smiled in that gap toothy way, put the cup down, crossed his hands over his ample stomach and looked around the dim palace.
There was silence for a good few minutes while I sipped me 'acquired' tasting tea and he looked around at everything. Luckily, I had tidied up the flat before his coming so I felt pretty good it looked decent. The only problem I had, was those damn eggs. They are very ornate and some have stones on them. I don't know if they were real eggs (I think so), painted and lacquered, or ceramic, but I took care of all three thousand of them.
He pursed his lips together and nodded his head as his eyes took minute scrutiny of those damnable eggs.
"You keep place looking good."
I was glad he broke the silence because for the life of me, nothing came to mind for me to say. I smiled and muttered something like, "I try." It was then the Pee Cat jumped on his lap from the arm of the chair where she had perched herself. She had been looking at me the entire time through half-closed eyes like she was in heaven now that Uncle Boris was there to save the day and as it was plain for me to see, she was his chum and I wasn't.
She purred loudly just to annoy me that she was happy to see him. He smiled and crooned to her. Let me tell you a 450 lb. man crooning to a small smelly cat, looked ridiculously obscene to me. I cleared my throat and asked him because I wanted to be sure if he was taking Miss Pee with him. He told me he would be happy to and was there anything else he could do for me? I said short of taking the entire egg collection, would it be all right if I have professional cleaners come in? He was perplexed at that request and had the nerve to ask me why.
After blinking a few times in stunned silence I said, "You can't smell that?"
"Smelling what?"
"Cat," I answered.
"This cat?" He pointed at the offensive thing and I nodded. "This is clean cat. Petrova keeps clean yes?" This last he crooned to her.
"No, she smells the place up."
He sniffed the air and I was almost dying he was inhaling it and there she was in his lap. I could almost see the fumes rising in the air. But then he smelt it too, so what could he really say? He said something to her laughingly in Russian (probably some degrading statement about me) and asked me if I wanted the expense to go ahead. I then took it one step further and told him in so many words that I knew the egg collection was expensive and I lived in fear I'd break one. Could he please gather them and take them as well? He laughed and waved his hand as he shook his head, "No, no, I no take eggs, eggs are Nadia's pride and joy and must live here."
Seeing the utter despair on me face his heart must have softened because he told me I could move them all to a room I did not use and that would be that. Happens there is a small room I do not use and so I was good with that.
He got up tucking the Pee Cat under his arm and announced "Go take cat from place," and up I bounded and headed for the door. There I gestured to the cat litter bag, cat carrier, cat bowls cleaned and neatly stacked in a Tupperware container, Fancy Feast cans I'd placed in cut cardboard boxes, and a bag of dry cat food with chip clips keeping it shut. Carefully, he put Miss Pee in her container, and as he did I offered to carry some of the cat paraphernalia to his car. He told me to gather, "Cat toys please, bring so Petrova has play things." And then he shrugged his way into his big smelly coat and picking up the carrier headed off.
Slapping my forehead at how forgetful I was, I went and got the toys throwing them in a kitchen trash bag and out I went after him. He had placed the Pee Cat on the front seat of his Citroen. I was amazed, where did he ever find a Citroen in America? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph what an ugly vehicle it be. He took the cat toys put them in the back and held his hand for the next bag or box. I stood there stupidly staring at the outstretched hand, half in the backseat, half out and ran back in for the cat food. I ran in several times for all of it, since Uncle Boris made no move to help, up and down those bloody million stairs back and forth!
He gave me a great bear hug that almost caved me ribs in and got in the car. As he did, the Citroen groaned and moved to one side. I couldn't see, but I knew the tyres on the driving side must be low to the ground. I was thinking if Uncle Boris goes around a corner too swiftly, the car would roll over. I evilly envisioned the Pee Cat in carrier being flung out and into the air. He pushed his head down like a turtle and waved at me with his fat fingers and off he and the smug Pee Cat went. Hopefully, never to be seen again.
I was right on the phone with the cleaning people, who I begged to come that very afternoon. They would not do it. I told them of the cat piss, the cat shite, the regurgitated cat food, the hair-balls, and they told me they could come "maybe" the next day. I was beside meself, so close yet so far.
To make me long story short, they did come, they even moved those precariously delicate eggs for me and they tied the heavy draperies back. The windows were cleaned to a dazzle, and sunlight streamed in like you would not believe. I almost did an Irish jig right there in the living room when my bubble of happiness was burst by one of the cleaning women. She informed me that the leather and brocade furniture would crackle and fade (in that order) if the sunlight was allowed in. So for a whole 3 minutes, I was basking in sunshine, only to have the gloom and doom come rolling in as the draperies came crashing back to close it all out.
Well, at least the smell and the cat are gone. YEA!
Gabe
Copyright © 2004 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
The last I left you, I was considering looking at flats to get away (far, far away), from the Pee Cat and smelly abode. I set up two appointments with a property manager to look over a new place to live, sans Pee Cat. What I was offered was far less desirable than where I was, Pee Cat, smell and all. In me upset I rang up me old friend Alison, who got me into this predicament in the first place, and I asked her how it came to be that me, who does not get along well with cats, ended up living with one.
As it turns out, it was all a horrible mistake, in that Alison's cousin Nadia Demidov misunderstood all the negatives but she changed them to positives. What that means is Nadia (who is from Chernobyl - yes, the town that glows in the dark), got messed up in translation that when Ali stated I was a "native" Irish, she only heard native and somehow I became "native" Russki. Ali also told her I did not get on well with cats and this Nadia interpreted, as I could not live without one. There you have it, the way the Pee Cat and I ended up together in the dark Kremin that is me flat.
I asked Alison to fix this, or I was moving out. Now thanks to your kind self there, R. Linda, I have made the stock rise in the Febreze company. I also found out from my former neighbour Tonya, that a professional house cleaning service would do the trick IF the cat goes. Within hours Alison had me back on the phone telling me Nadia's Uncle Boris was on his way to pick up the Pee Cat and I would be cat-free for the rest of my stay.
I quickly gathered up all of Pee's belongings set them at the door and sat meself down with a cup of Bewley's best, waiting for the arrival of Uncle Boris. I didn't have long for there was a hard rap upon the door and the vibration from it (that even had I been dead), I'd have heard. With trepidation I opened the door and there in the dim light stood a huge man of 6' 4" and nearly 450 lbs. He took off his fur hat, yes Linda, one of those fur things in the middle of the summer yet, and proceeded to smile down at yours truly, who stands a good 6' 2". He had the smile of a Jack O'Lantern with a huge gap between his upper front teeth. I bid him come inside and don't you know it, that stupid Pee Cat gave a cry of delighted surprise and bounded over to him, tail in the air like a banner and up into his arms! Oh, that traitorous cat!
I saw he was wearing an equally heavy long coat and I asked to take it. He gently put that arrogant cat on a chair and shrugged his way out of the great coat. The smell of body odour hit me (and it would since it was summer, and here be this large man in a wool greatcoat. He sat down as I stumbled off to hang the offensive garment near a window. All the time I was doing this, I was wondering why the body fat he wore didn't keep him warm. San Francisco is a cool place but not for a wool great coat in the month of July.
I offered him some of me Bewley's which he narrowed his eyes and asked, "What is this Booleys?" At which I explained it was Irish tea. He nodded, I poured, he tasted, and looked at me and said, "Takes a 'required' taste like your whiskey!" And with that, he set the teacup down, grabbed a bottle of vodka from the shelf behind him and added more than a drop to his tea. Then he took a slurp and smiled in that gap toothy way, put the cup down, crossed his hands over his ample stomach and looked around the dim palace.
There was silence for a good few minutes while I sipped me 'acquired' tasting tea and he looked around at everything. Luckily, I had tidied up the flat before his coming so I felt pretty good it looked decent. The only problem I had, was those damn eggs. They are very ornate and some have stones on them. I don't know if they were real eggs (I think so), painted and lacquered, or ceramic, but I took care of all three thousand of them.
He pursed his lips together and nodded his head as his eyes took minute scrutiny of those damnable eggs.
"You keep place looking good."
I was glad he broke the silence because for the life of me, nothing came to mind for me to say. I smiled and muttered something like, "I try." It was then the Pee Cat jumped on his lap from the arm of the chair where she had perched herself. She had been looking at me the entire time through half-closed eyes like she was in heaven now that Uncle Boris was there to save the day and as it was plain for me to see, she was his chum and I wasn't.
She purred loudly just to annoy me that she was happy to see him. He smiled and crooned to her. Let me tell you a 450 lb. man crooning to a small smelly cat, looked ridiculously obscene to me. I cleared my throat and asked him because I wanted to be sure if he was taking Miss Pee with him. He told me he would be happy to and was there anything else he could do for me? I said short of taking the entire egg collection, would it be all right if I have professional cleaners come in? He was perplexed at that request and had the nerve to ask me why.
After blinking a few times in stunned silence I said, "You can't smell that?"
"Smelling what?"
"Cat," I answered.
"This cat?" He pointed at the offensive thing and I nodded. "This is clean cat. Petrova keeps clean yes?" This last he crooned to her.
"No, she smells the place up."
He sniffed the air and I was almost dying he was inhaling it and there she was in his lap. I could almost see the fumes rising in the air. But then he smelt it too, so what could he really say? He said something to her laughingly in Russian (probably some degrading statement about me) and asked me if I wanted the expense to go ahead. I then took it one step further and told him in so many words that I knew the egg collection was expensive and I lived in fear I'd break one. Could he please gather them and take them as well? He laughed and waved his hand as he shook his head, "No, no, I no take eggs, eggs are Nadia's pride and joy and must live here."
Seeing the utter despair on me face his heart must have softened because he told me I could move them all to a room I did not use and that would be that. Happens there is a small room I do not use and so I was good with that.
He got up tucking the Pee Cat under his arm and announced "Go take cat from place," and up I bounded and headed for the door. There I gestured to the cat litter bag, cat carrier, cat bowls cleaned and neatly stacked in a Tupperware container, Fancy Feast cans I'd placed in cut cardboard boxes, and a bag of dry cat food with chip clips keeping it shut. Carefully, he put Miss Pee in her container, and as he did I offered to carry some of the cat paraphernalia to his car. He told me to gather, "Cat toys please, bring so Petrova has play things." And then he shrugged his way into his big smelly coat and picking up the carrier headed off.
Slapping my forehead at how forgetful I was, I went and got the toys throwing them in a kitchen trash bag and out I went after him. He had placed the Pee Cat on the front seat of his Citroen. I was amazed, where did he ever find a Citroen in America? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph what an ugly vehicle it be. He took the cat toys put them in the back and held his hand for the next bag or box. I stood there stupidly staring at the outstretched hand, half in the backseat, half out and ran back in for the cat food. I ran in several times for all of it, since Uncle Boris made no move to help, up and down those bloody million stairs back and forth!
He gave me a great bear hug that almost caved me ribs in and got in the car. As he did, the Citroen groaned and moved to one side. I couldn't see, but I knew the tyres on the driving side must be low to the ground. I was thinking if Uncle Boris goes around a corner too swiftly, the car would roll over. I evilly envisioned the Pee Cat in carrier being flung out and into the air. He pushed his head down like a turtle and waved at me with his fat fingers and off he and the smug Pee Cat went. Hopefully, never to be seen again.
I was right on the phone with the cleaning people, who I begged to come that very afternoon. They would not do it. I told them of the cat piss, the cat shite, the regurgitated cat food, the hair-balls, and they told me they could come "maybe" the next day. I was beside meself, so close yet so far.
To make me long story short, they did come, they even moved those precariously delicate eggs for me and they tied the heavy draperies back. The windows were cleaned to a dazzle, and sunlight streamed in like you would not believe. I almost did an Irish jig right there in the living room when my bubble of happiness was burst by one of the cleaning women. She informed me that the leather and brocade furniture would crackle and fade (in that order) if the sunlight was allowed in. So for a whole 3 minutes, I was basking in sunshine, only to have the gloom and doom come rolling in as the draperies came crashing back to close it all out.
Well, at least the smell and the cat are gone. YEA!
Gabe
Copyright © 2004 All rights reserved
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