Meow

I had a strange encounter today. I was getting into my car, which is parked down the side street next to my flat. I had one leg in the car, the other on the road when a car with a trailer that had been driving down the road in the opposite direction suddenly stopped and the guy driving it yelled out to me:

Guy: Excuse me, do you have a cat?
Me: Er, I used to.
Guy: Have you still got it?
Me: No, my friend’s got it now.
Guy: Why’s your friend got it?
Me: Because its his cat. I was just looking after it.
Guy: How long ago was this?
Me: Several months ago.
Guy: Oh, well that’s all right, then.
Me: Ok.

What I should have said, had I not been thrown by the completely unexpected situation, was “Who are you and why do you want to know if I have a cat?”

I think he lives in the same building as me, in the furthest flat from me. The one the policeman came knocking on my door looking for. The one with the smashed front door. The one with all the dodgy hippy guys smoking on the front porch. The one who yelled at my old flatmate for leaving only half a car length of street parking before the driveway, only to be silenced when my flatmate explained he’d just parked behind a car that had been in front.

And I possibly heard a cat or two making that reowing cat fight noise last night. So maybe he, like, was all strung out on whatever and got really annoyed at the cats making some noise and wanted to yell at whose ever cats they were.

Ha ha, crazy middle-of-the-road-question-asking guy, the only ones you can yell at are the cats, and like most cats they probably don’t care.

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