a tragic shortage of quarters
New Year’s Eve I am —
Trotting up and down stairs from the laundry room because I swore I would have clean clothes for the New Year and it was the last day to make that happen. [I blame a tragic shortage of quarters for the laundry build up do not ask how many coat pockets in the closet I had to turn out to even accumulate a quarter convoy to do that laundry.]
I am coming up stairs and a little cat comes out of an apartment downstairs. He is a very cute cat, a dark gray and black tabby with soft shiny fur. I say, Hello Minew. [I say Minew because I cannot spell in French.] And he gets brave and comes over to say hello even though I am holding a huge scary hamper of laundry.
There is a guy in the apartment looking out and a woman coming up the stairs behind me and he is saying, Look it is Max, and she is saying, Hi Max!
I am wondering how they know my name I have never met them and also they sound way too friendly.
Then I get it. The cat’s name is Max.
where the art work comes from :
that is cat with the broom from redart
12 Responses to a tragic shortage of quarters
The cat would probably be just as startled to discover that a female human had his name.
That cat has nothing to worry about he is clearly more popular than me.
Bonjour chat noir.
Oh wait…I mean Hi Max…the one with the laundry.
That damn cat. Next it will be hogging the pages of Variety.
I am always wondering why my purse is so friggin heavy until I find my collection of rolls of quarters. I need to stop asking for those!
We should swap I never have enough quarters.
You better come up with a new excuse if management exchanges the quarter machines with the modern ones you can swipe an electronic card through~~~
Hey I am always robbed here. Management at the loft had cards. You just had to be a stealth ninja to get them. Now the new building has quarters. Which are actually easier to get — but still problematic especially since my freaking change jar is full of francs and who knows what else they just are not freaking quarters ahhh!
A coin machine would really help about now. Any machine. There are no machines here.
” There are no machines here.” I’ve completely lost it over this line. It’s like Issac Asimov inside out or something.
Tous the chats in the monde should be named Minou. It’s such a cat word.
It is. I picked that up in Louisiana along with a lot of other words I cannot spell.
That’s all right … the folks in Loozianna can’t spell them either.