Walking down North 6th earlier I decided to make my once-a-decade stop into a record store. Do my part for the local Mom & Pop store (or, from the looks of the guys working there, Pop & Pop.) Of course, I have no idea how many units of used vinyl a place has to sell to make their $9500/mo. rent, but hey, what do I know.
So I get to the door and I see this sign:
PLEASE DO NOT LET THE CAT OUT
What? My life doesn't suck enough; now I gotta risk getting bitched at by 90-lb dudes with handbags on skateboards if I'm the one with my hand on the door when your stupid cat (ironically named "Stevens", of course) makes a final break for it? Wtf?
I don't need that pressure. Fuck that, I kept walking.
1 comment:
...out of the bag.
so you let him out, right?
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