(Scene: a dialogue between two friends about the horrific practice known in western civilization as “dating.” One is lamenting her love life, or lack thereof, and the other is providing a shoulder to lean on…Let’s listen in, shall we?)
K: Hey, Ali? Which of your cats would you not really mind suddenly disappearing?
A: Well, let’s see…Honey is pretty sweet, and R loves Rudder…but Pentillo is a real pain in the ass, so I guess if I had to choose one of them, I wouldn’t mind AS MUCH if it were him.
(Pause…)
A: Wait…why are you asking me this?
K: Well, I’ve decided to get a jump start on my life goal of becoming a crazy old cat lady, and to do that, I kind of need to obtain some cats. You have three, so I figured you wouldn’t mind if I took your least favorite.
A: Oh…okay. He’d be the cat best suited to help you toward crazy cat lady status because he “talks” a lot and claws at your face while you sleep.
K: Oh perfect! So I’d get used to muttering to him and I’d have a ton of scratches on my face?
A: Yes. I’m still confused about something though…
K: And that is…?
A: Why are you becoming a crazy old cat lady?
K: Because I suck at dating and understanding non-verbal cues, so I’m going to be alone forever.
A: Is this because you haven’t heard from that guy in a couple days?
K: Maybe.
A: I think you’re over-reacting.
K: I THOUGHT HE ENJOYED MY QUIRKS.
A: He’s a guy…why do you think he didn’t?
K: Because things were going pretty good and then, poof, NOTHING.
A: Maybe he’s busy? Like, with work or something?
K: I don’t know…I’m not saying I wanted long-term commitment, but I enjoyed hanging out and he seemed pretty cool.
A: Okay, I really think you’re over-reacting.
K: I’m pretty sure he hates me and I’m ugly and life sucks and I’m going to die alone.
A: If my cats are gone when we get back next week, I know you have them.
K: You don’t know that for sure.
A: You just told me you were going to take at least one of them.
K: Now you’re treating me like I’m the Jodi Arias of cat-napping.
A: OVER. REACTING.
K: Maybe a little.
A: I love you. Calm down. It’s going to be fine.
K: I’m going to change my name to Haversham and only eat cake.
A: Well, then, you’re going to die, because that much gluten will kill you and it will be a self-fulfilling prophecy.
K: Make sure they bury me in my overalls.
A: I take it back…you could very well die alone.
(Love is a brutal game, especially for those of us who are hopelessly quirky and impossibly dramatic. End scene.)
*this post is mostly true, but if you’re a guy and reading this and thinking that no one should date K because she sounds insane and really co-dependent, you should probably rethink your life. K is hilarious and kind of weird (in a quirky/fun way) and makes really (REALLY) damn good chocolate chip cookies (from scratch). Long-term commitment freaks her out, but she would like a boyfriend because, let’s face it, kissing is fun and she needs someone to argue with about which movie to watch on any given Saturday night.
Our Father's Mustache 