Monday, November 17, 2014

Monday Can't See Me

The normal flow changes when the traffic lights become non-functional

Out the door on Monday and find the back tire is running short on air. Back inside, go to the bike area to fetch the Airbase Pro wonder pump, return to find that the cat has stolen the valve cap I left next to the tire. He grabbed it and ran off as if he had really found something. He dove into his tube house with his bounty, and probably added it to the pile of other small things he's taken from me. He peeked out from the doorway at me. I know he was thinking, "He can't see me. I am stealthy, and hiding. Motionless, I am invisible to him."

Fine, I said, keep it, it's yours, I have plenty, just don't eat* it. Return to bike area, get another valve cap, return to bike, pump up tire, install alternative valve cap, take Airbase Pro pump back to bicycle area. Return to bike. Find cat staring intently at the new valve cap, wearing EXACTLY the expression, "Why is your valve making that soft yet distinct hissing sound just slightly too quiet for your abused human ears to make out but plenty loud for my sensitive cat ears to hear?" Great. 

He gives me a look. His look says, "I have concerns about you riding off on this quietly hissing thing. Perhaps you would prefer to just stay home on Monday. We could bat valve caps across the floor and all around the house. Perhaps we might eat some."

I think it's a Christmas tree installation

The traffic at the light was thrown into a tizzy because the stoplight that they drive through every day at the same time for years happened to choose this day to lapse into a non-functional state. Everyone knows that you're supposed to stop at a non-functioning light as if it were a four-way stop, but no one seems to do this in practice, so they brought out a policeman to stand out there in the middle as a visible authority figure to wave at them to remind them what to do. I decided to avoid the whole thing and diverted to the sidewalk to just ride around the mess. 

Ride around the mess worked marginally better than riding through the mess, but still required a zig-zag two block detour to slurp around the back end of the disturbed mass of crawling drivers of disrupted routine. I thought I might never get around, but of course that's just a dire exaggeration, because just a few moments of patience and perseverance got me around and across, and put the micro-jam behind me.

I felt Monday breathing down my neck, but I did not look him in the eye. Instead, I left Monday in my dust. Monday can't see me, and the tire held just fine.  

*I briefly considered not telling my wife, the cat lady, about this incident, since I immediately had fears of what a cat endoscopy might cost. Then I doubled that. 


  1. They cost about $1250 several years ago when one of my cats had one :( I didn't know your wife was a Cat Lady, too. I like her.

  2. Worse than the cat endoscopy would be having to force feed the cat the fluid that makes the diarrhea beforehand!

    1. Pilling them is hard enough. I imagine force feeding them that stuff would all end in tears.


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