She thought for a moment, looked at her plans again, took a long pull from her cocktail, and nodded. “Yes, take back the two feet. I get my carpet, and I can live with that.” She sighed, offering me her hand.
I shook it solemnly and offered her my celery stalk. Clive came sauntering in and began to pace by the front door, pawing under the crack.
“I bet our Thai is almost here. Let me get my money,” I said, pointing toward the door as I headed for my purse on the kitchen counter. Just as I spoke, I could hear steps in the hallway.
“Mimi, get the door, that’ll be the takeout guy,” I called, rummaging through my purse.
“Got it,” she yelled, and I heard the door open. “Oh, hey there, Simon!” she said, and then I heard the strangest sound.
I would swear, on a stack of Bibles in a court of actual law, that I heard my cat speak.
“Porrrrreeeennnnnya,” Clive said, and I whirled about.
In the span of five seconds, a thousand things happened: I saw Simon and Purina in the hallway, bags from Whole Foods in hands, key in front door. I saw Mimi at the door, barefoot and leaning (again with the leaning) in the doorway. I saw Clive rear back on his hind legs preparing to jump in a way that I’d only ever seen him do once when I hid the catnip on the top of the fridge. Babies were born, old people died, stocks were traded, and someone faked an orgasm. All in those five seconds.
I launched myself at the door in a slow-motion run reminiscent of every action movie ever made.
“Nooooooooo!” I cried as I saw a look of panic cross Purina’s face and a look of pure lust cross Clive’s as he prepared to woo. If I’d started for the door any earlier, maybe even a second earlier, I could’ve prevented the pandemonium that ensued.
Simon pushed his door open and smiled a confused smile at me as I caught his eye. No doubt he was wondering why I was charging the door and screaming noooooo. Just then Clive jumped. Leapt. Charged. Purina saw Clive jumping directly at her, and she did the worst thing she could’ve done. She ran. She ran into Simon’s apartment. Of course the girl who meows when she has an orgasm is afraid of cats.
Clive gave chase, and as I stood in the hallway with Simon and Mimi, we heard shrieking and meowing echoing back to us. It sounded oddly familiar, and I was reminded of Simon bringing it on home. I shook my head and took over.
“Caroline, what the hell was that? Your cat just—” Simon was saying, and I placed my hand over his mouth as I hurried past him.
“We don’t have time, Simon! We have to get Clive!”
Mimi followed me into his apartment, Ned Nickerson to my Nancy Drew. I followed the shrieks and meows to the back of the apartment, noticing that Simon’s place was an exact mirror image of mine. It was very single guy, with the flat screen TV and the amazing sound system. I didn’t really have time for a proper shakedown, but I did notice the mountain bike in the dining room, as well as beautiful framed photographs all over the walls lit by retro sconces. I couldn’t admire for long, as I could hear Clive getting worked up in the bedroom.
I paused by the door, listening to Purina scream. I looked back at Simon and Mimi, who wore twin expressions of fear and confusion—although Mimi’s also showed quite a bit of merriment.
“I’m going in,” I said in a low, brave voice. With a deep breath I pushed the door open, and saw the Bedroom of Sin for the first time. Desk in the corner. Dresser on one wall, with top covered in loose change. More photographs on the wall, black and whites. And there it was: his bed.
Cue trumpets.
Pushed up against the wall, my wall, was a giant California king, complete with a padded, leather headboard. Padded. It would have to be, now wouldn’t it? It was immense. And he had the power to move that thing with his hips alone? Once again Lower Caroline sat up straight and took notice.
I centered, I focused, and I pried my eyes away from Orgasm Central. I scanned and acquired the target: there at the leather club chair in front of the window. Purina perched on the back of this chair, hands in her hair, moaning and wailing and crying. Her skirt was shredded, and there were tiny claw marks in her stockings. She attempted with every fiber of her being to shrink away from the cat on the floor in front of her.
And Clive?
Clive was strutting. Strutting back and forth in front of her, giving it his all. He turned like he was on a runway, pacing along a line on the floor and glancing at her nonchalantly.
If Clive could wear a blazer, he would have taken it off, draped it casually over his kitty shoulder, and pointed at her. It was all I could do not to fall down laughing. I stepped toward him, and Purina shouted something at me in Russian. I ignored her and focused all my attention on my cat.
“Hey, Clive. Hey. Where’s my good boy?” I crooned, and he turned. He glanced at me, and then jerked his head in Purina’s direction as though he were making the first round of introductions. “Who’s your new friend?” I crooned again, shaking my head at Purina when she tried to say something. I held my finger up in front of my lips. This would require great finesse.
“Clive, come here!” Mimi yelled and barreled into the room. She always had trouble containing her excitement.
Clive made for the door as Mimi made for Clive. Purina made for the bed as I raced after Mimi, who collided with Simon just outside the bedroom door, who was still holding his damn Whole Foods bags. Thoughtfully chosen sustainable organic produce rained down on both of them as I pushed past, hurdling over limbs and a wheel of Brie on my way back to the front door. I caught Clive just as he made a break for the stairs and held him close.
“Clive, you know better than to run away from Mommy,” I chastised, as Simon and Mimi finally caught up to us.
“What the hell are you doing, cockblocker? Are you trying to kill me?” he shouted.
Mimi rounded on him. “Don’t you call her that, you…you…you wallbanger!” she fired back, smacking his chest.
“Oh, you two shut up!” I yelled. Here came Purina down the hallway toward us, wearing only one shoe and a furious look. She began to shout in Russian.
Mimi and Simon continued to yell, Purina screamed, Clive struggled to get loose and be reunited with his one and only, and I stood in the middle of the chaos, trying to figure out what the hell had happened in the last two minutes.
“Get control of your damn cat!” Simon yelled, as Clive tried to spring free.
“Don’t you yell at Caroline!” Mimi yelled, smacking him again.
“Look at my skirt!” Purina cried.
I shook it solemnly and offered her my celery stalk. Clive came sauntering in and began to pace by the front door, pawing under the crack.
“I bet our Thai is almost here. Let me get my money,” I said, pointing toward the door as I headed for my purse on the kitchen counter. Just as I spoke, I could hear steps in the hallway.
“Mimi, get the door, that’ll be the takeout guy,” I called, rummaging through my purse.
“Got it,” she yelled, and I heard the door open. “Oh, hey there, Simon!” she said, and then I heard the strangest sound.
I would swear, on a stack of Bibles in a court of actual law, that I heard my cat speak.
“Porrrrreeeennnnnya,” Clive said, and I whirled about.
In the span of five seconds, a thousand things happened: I saw Simon and Purina in the hallway, bags from Whole Foods in hands, key in front door. I saw Mimi at the door, barefoot and leaning (again with the leaning) in the doorway. I saw Clive rear back on his hind legs preparing to jump in a way that I’d only ever seen him do once when I hid the catnip on the top of the fridge. Babies were born, old people died, stocks were traded, and someone faked an orgasm. All in those five seconds.
I launched myself at the door in a slow-motion run reminiscent of every action movie ever made.
“Nooooooooo!” I cried as I saw a look of panic cross Purina’s face and a look of pure lust cross Clive’s as he prepared to woo. If I’d started for the door any earlier, maybe even a second earlier, I could’ve prevented the pandemonium that ensued.
Simon pushed his door open and smiled a confused smile at me as I caught his eye. No doubt he was wondering why I was charging the door and screaming noooooo. Just then Clive jumped. Leapt. Charged. Purina saw Clive jumping directly at her, and she did the worst thing she could’ve done. She ran. She ran into Simon’s apartment. Of course the girl who meows when she has an orgasm is afraid of cats.
Clive gave chase, and as I stood in the hallway with Simon and Mimi, we heard shrieking and meowing echoing back to us. It sounded oddly familiar, and I was reminded of Simon bringing it on home. I shook my head and took over.
“Caroline, what the hell was that? Your cat just—” Simon was saying, and I placed my hand over his mouth as I hurried past him.
“We don’t have time, Simon! We have to get Clive!”
Mimi followed me into his apartment, Ned Nickerson to my Nancy Drew. I followed the shrieks and meows to the back of the apartment, noticing that Simon’s place was an exact mirror image of mine. It was very single guy, with the flat screen TV and the amazing sound system. I didn’t really have time for a proper shakedown, but I did notice the mountain bike in the dining room, as well as beautiful framed photographs all over the walls lit by retro sconces. I couldn’t admire for long, as I could hear Clive getting worked up in the bedroom.
I paused by the door, listening to Purina scream. I looked back at Simon and Mimi, who wore twin expressions of fear and confusion—although Mimi’s also showed quite a bit of merriment.
“I’m going in,” I said in a low, brave voice. With a deep breath I pushed the door open, and saw the Bedroom of Sin for the first time. Desk in the corner. Dresser on one wall, with top covered in loose change. More photographs on the wall, black and whites. And there it was: his bed.
Cue trumpets.
Pushed up against the wall, my wall, was a giant California king, complete with a padded, leather headboard. Padded. It would have to be, now wouldn’t it? It was immense. And he had the power to move that thing with his hips alone? Once again Lower Caroline sat up straight and took notice.
I centered, I focused, and I pried my eyes away from Orgasm Central. I scanned and acquired the target: there at the leather club chair in front of the window. Purina perched on the back of this chair, hands in her hair, moaning and wailing and crying. Her skirt was shredded, and there were tiny claw marks in her stockings. She attempted with every fiber of her being to shrink away from the cat on the floor in front of her.
And Clive?
Clive was strutting. Strutting back and forth in front of her, giving it his all. He turned like he was on a runway, pacing along a line on the floor and glancing at her nonchalantly.
If Clive could wear a blazer, he would have taken it off, draped it casually over his kitty shoulder, and pointed at her. It was all I could do not to fall down laughing. I stepped toward him, and Purina shouted something at me in Russian. I ignored her and focused all my attention on my cat.
“Hey, Clive. Hey. Where’s my good boy?” I crooned, and he turned. He glanced at me, and then jerked his head in Purina’s direction as though he were making the first round of introductions. “Who’s your new friend?” I crooned again, shaking my head at Purina when she tried to say something. I held my finger up in front of my lips. This would require great finesse.
“Clive, come here!” Mimi yelled and barreled into the room. She always had trouble containing her excitement.
Clive made for the door as Mimi made for Clive. Purina made for the bed as I raced after Mimi, who collided with Simon just outside the bedroom door, who was still holding his damn Whole Foods bags. Thoughtfully chosen sustainable organic produce rained down on both of them as I pushed past, hurdling over limbs and a wheel of Brie on my way back to the front door. I caught Clive just as he made a break for the stairs and held him close.
“Clive, you know better than to run away from Mommy,” I chastised, as Simon and Mimi finally caught up to us.
“What the hell are you doing, cockblocker? Are you trying to kill me?” he shouted.
Mimi rounded on him. “Don’t you call her that, you…you…you wallbanger!” she fired back, smacking his chest.
“Oh, you two shut up!” I yelled. Here came Purina down the hallway toward us, wearing only one shoe and a furious look. She began to shout in Russian.
Mimi and Simon continued to yell, Purina screamed, Clive struggled to get loose and be reunited with his one and only, and I stood in the middle of the chaos, trying to figure out what the hell had happened in the last two minutes.
“Get control of your damn cat!” Simon yelled, as Clive tried to spring free.
“Don’t you yell at Caroline!” Mimi yelled, smacking him again.
“Look at my skirt!” Purina cried.
