Thursday, January 11, 2007

The one with the crazy cat ladies (plural)

So I'm casually napping slash watching the Sopranos on a The Pansy's couch waiting for her return only to be aroused from my semi-lucid half sleep half hypothermic state by the building's fire alarm.

At first I was really confused and tried to figure out exactly how a fire alrm figured into the plot (it didn't) and then it occurred to me that it was in fact coming from beyond the door.

"Boo! Now I have to get off the couch and out from underneath the blankets" I thought to myself. I didn't really feel like leaving the warmth of the living room so I stayed in the apartment for a bit and called The Pansy for advice - which actually just worried her and then I peeked my head out the door only to make eye contact with her neighbour's white trash (and possible) live-in boyfriend (Ed. So it turns out it's the boyfriend's place), so I quickly closed the door again.

Still in the apartment.

The Pansy asked me to ask them what was going on, but I didn't really feel the need, but I complied. Except once I peeked my head out once again, he was no where in sight (too bad!).

At this point, I had to go to the washroom and was seriously considering a trek to McDonald's because at least I'd be warm/have food and shit but I refused to relieve myself there, so that was my last stop before bundling myself up n my way out the door.

I went out the back door (because it's more fun to plow your way through snow drifts when you're wearing canvas shoes) and walked around to the front doors to find what can only be described as 'the cat-lady cabal' - a small troupe of obviously single women clutching cats wrapped in blankets kvetching about how the alarm interrupted their movie or whathaveyou.

Seriously, just shoot me in the face; it's better than being trapped in an alcove with these women, who give single women everywhere a bad name.

I called The Pansy again to fill her in on what exactly was going on ( a fire alarm went off in an empty unit prompting a nosy vigilant resident to call 911 and subsequently pull the building's alarm) and the firemen eventually let us in after calling the old building manager.

All in all, I only missed half of the Sopranos episode that I was watching and solidified my vow to never become a cat lady.


marie lyn bernard said...

I lived in the NYU dorms one summer, in which I think I was the only midwesterner amongst 10,000 east coast kids who had dadddies who got them internships in the City for the summer and when we had fire drills at 6am, they would be out there in the sweltering heat in their business suits, ready to go make a killing at Goldman-Sachs/Vogue/Morgan Stanley/Simon&Schuster and I would be like, hungover and on two hours of sleep from working all night at the freakin' Olive Garden Times Square and then going out drinking afterwards with my twentysomething wannabe-actor friends and that's one of many reasons why I think that perhaps this is inhumane.

Charm School Reject said...

Cat ladies creep me out.

Charm School Reject said...

The fact that I would be doing the same thing with my son's tortoise, all wrapped up in a blanket and in the other hand holding a bucket of warm water with his water turtles in it is besides the point.

I guess I'm a "turtle lady"

S* said...

Ain't no shame in being a cat lady. Not that I'm one of them. Can't stand those things...

team gingerbread said...

mlb - it's better than teh fire alarms when I was in rez, when without fail, some hussy would always be in 'in the middle of a shower' and trot out in just a towel.

Despite the fact that we knew that fire alarms in rez were around 5 or 6 am so that everyone would be affected.

You don't have 3 seconds to put on pants?

csr - thankfully there is no stigma associated with being a crazy turtle lady yet, you'd be a pioneer

s* - I can't stand them either. And I think most of my anger stemmed from missing The Sopranos