I don't know what it is, but while I was staying at the house I was staying at, the house has three floors. OK? The middle floor has the front door into the front room which has the pool table and me sleeping on the far side of it. Three people in bedrooms downstairs and Dash on the floor above, next to what he calls "The Cone of Silence" Staircase. On the landing, one stands next to a large ear-height platform on which are two CD changers, an amp, CD's a-ragamuffin, and two mighty-might Bose speakers. You get your Mug O' Ginnntonic and stand in the stairwell as Van Halen, Van Morrison, The Paperboys, and Beethoven's Sixth are twisted beyond 20,000 rpm router heights. Drywall cracks. Neighbors remember he's gone most of the time. Siding boards flake off and fall to the ground. He leans into your ear and screams "YOU LIKE THIS ONE?"
When you work 12 hours plus, you tend to unwind quickly. Up and goin by five in the morning, ya know. So that sleep really matters. The second night I'm there, I wake at three and I think I hear a cat meowing. I turn on the floor lamp, lie back and just two feet above my head, looking down in my face, is a cat, leaning over the edge of the pool table. She wants out. Well. Screw you. Well, OK. I get up and she runs to the front door. I'm thinking, "Who let's her out regular-like around here? Why doesn't she wake one of them up? Why does she think I'm gonna do it?"
Doh! I just did it.
I complain, but the next night she meows and keeps at it and I finally get up and she runs into the hallway, towards the back door this time, with me following, and then veers left through the kitchen to the dining room, to the front room, to the front door, and I say OK; and then voom over to the hallway toward the backdoor, and feints right toward the backdoor but turns left into the kitchen again, and I'm supposed to play this with her in the middle of the night before I let her out. Round and round we go, with me leaning over half naked whispering kitty kitty kitty instead of hold it right there you little bitch if you wanna live.
How do they find me? |
