Pudding-Tat headlines today. She left me a little reminder right on my computer desk that she has grown too big to fit through the pet door. I’ll recap that, you see nobody knew how big the cat would grow, and in a conservative measure, I bought the smallest cat door available. She did her business in front of this keyboard to insure I wouldn’t miss it. I told you that cat was smart.Another extremely successful session at the shoe shop, and I see I’m not the only one capable of leaving things until the last minute. I don’t know if I ever told you about that pair of $2,000 (1983 dollars) I saw in Merida (the one in Yucatan, not the one in Venezuela). Those were nice. Some pretty fancy cowboy boots are coming in for repair. All that boot scootin’ can wear out your heels, you know. I will say, except for the cheapest models, I’ve learned a new respect for the quality that goes into that footwear.
Alaine called today, saying there is little reason to show up for Xmas before 6:00 PM tomorrow. That means I go into work at the shoe shop for half a day, which pleases the boss since he makes a fortune on the days I’m around. Even if I do take my time and screw things up regularly. Like recently a batch of glue joints have been coming apart. He thinks it is me, that I’ve forgotten how to apply glue. I think it is the glue, I mean not a problem for months and suddenly the past three days everything comes apart. Hey.
It is unusual, but I read a play today, the increasingly obscure “Emporer Jones”, a prototype work. Unusual, in the sense that I find such writing stilted and hard to read, same as everyone. It remains an early precursor of that plastic-budget, made-for-NY flotsam that mutated into “Hair”, “Cats”, and “Miss Saigon”. You been told again, and I’m going to go pat the cat.
There’s looking for trouble, there’s asking for trouble, and there’s going out of one’s way to create trouble. And the sure-fire way of accomplishing that is to try to hit on women in the local bars. Trust me, there are no unattached women in this town who are out to meet financially insecure old men in old clothes who drink draft beer in the middle of weekday afternoons. I do not understand how this fact escapes some people. You may think you’ve met a nice one, but is not why she is smiling, dude. You done been told.
Another item it takes some longer to learn than others is that you do not make friends with stupid people, no matter how nice they appear. It is enough to know who they are but that’s close enough. Ah, but what about family and co-workers? Same thing, be polite but keep that professional distance. Let them know you don’t think their delinquent son or pregnant teen are the future of the world. This country maybe, but certainly not the world. Stupid people will always let you down, if only by getting in your way during a pinch.
Remember the two versions of the truth. Version A: “Yes, officer, I know that person and I’ll answer all your questions.” Version B: “I do not talk behind people’s backs. If you want that kind of information, you should be asking them, not me.” Now which version does a stupid person think is “right”? Ah, sounds vaguely familiar. But my family was so double-dealing that the professional distance finally had to become 2,000 miles. And since then, I’ve never been stabbed in the back.
