Feline Harassment
His boss invited him to her house to celebrate her birthday. She did not invite José or Julia, who were working as hard as him. He did not want to think too much of it, but he could not hide his excitement. That was quite an occasion. He wanted to cause the best impression possible.
He knew her boss was a cat person, so he started to practice some nice things to say or do to a cat. He did not hate them, but he never felt comfortable around cats. He had seen videos of people cuddling with cats and no matter how cute they made it look, he always anticipating some bloody and nasty outcome.
“There will be other people in that party,” he thought. “What are the odds I’ll have to deal with her cat?”
He dressed professionally, but casually. He practice body language and polite exchanges; not too indifferent, not too needy. He gave her boss a nice present. He tried to interact with as many people as possible. He knew that this kind of environments were conducive to professional and social success. It was a lovely cat-free evening. Until they cut the cake. It looked delicious; some kind of cold juicy Latino invention with rum and prunes. He sat at a table ready to enjoy the dessert when he saw the elegant furry cat go under it.
He looked down nervously and there it was, right between his shoes under the table, looking straight at him with a pair of dilated blue eyes. He tried to ignore the furry creature. His boss asked him what he thought of the cake. He rushed to take a bite and dropped a forkful on his lap. It was cold and sticky and he could feel his crutch tickling. He pretended nothing happened. Took another piece and showed his boos the best satisfying look he could muster, especially considering that the cat had just jumped onto his lap.
“Had you ever tried that cake before?” His boss asked from across the table.
He started to sweat. The cat was eagerly licking the cake off his pants.
“Noooo!” he exclaimed as if possessed by some sudden ecstasy.
His boss walked around the table and approached him to give him more details about the cake and get a more detailed feedback now that he seemed to be the one who found the cake more exquisite.
He jump up from his seat to avoid being caught with the cat on his lap. His decision could not have been worse. The cat did not jump off his lap. Instead, it clung, as only cats can do, to the soft fabrics that separated his privates from the sharp claws. The cat kept licking the wet protuberant pants and he knew right then he was fired.
Thanks for stopping by
This was my entry to @mariannewest and @latino.romano’s 5-Minute Daily Freewrite: Tuesday Prompt: ON HIS LAP. You can see the details here.
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