A few hours ago, two girls were standing outside our apartment building. They were from this building, as I recognized the older, pudgier girl who constantly had a sour look on her face, as many tween girls often do. She was cradling around a charcoal grey kitten; or rather, the kitten was clawed onto her hoodie with dear life, as she would wave her arms around to any passerby, calling out to them. She would then stretch the cat out with one hand as the car would drive by. The younger one was waving around an empty box, similarly yelling out to the street, and rushed over to the opposite side to yell out some more.
As I am a sucker for cute furry things, I had an idea of what they were doing. Unfortunately, I cannot follow through my desires, as I am still allergic to such animals. So I can only watch as the mother came out of the building to console the kids, and they were brought back into the building.
Had I any initiative, or less of an allergy, I would have gone out and done as I wanted to do, which Jorghnassen kept reminding me that I could not do. Hence, I can only write how my imaginary conversation with the girls would have followed:
-Dear, what in the world are you two peddling?
"We're selling a cat." She points to herself with both hands, while the cat is hanging on to dear life with all four limbs hooked onto her shirt.
-Is that how you treat a cat?
"No, miss, we're trying to find a good home for it." The other girl shouts out at another car barreling down the road. "CAT FOR SALE!"
-How did it come about that you have this... cat for sale?
"We had it for a while but now my family can't afford to keep this cat." The girls pout and look toward the cat forlornly. The cat is squirming desperately out of her arms, but the girl manages to enclose it in her pudgy embrace.
-Dears, where is your mother or father?
"They're inside..."
-Do they know you're doing this?
"Yes..." Their eyes dart around and they kick their legs into air with the suspicious look that kids give when they are up to something.
-Well, let me talk to them.
"Are you going to buy the cat?"
-Let me talk to your parents first.
The girls lead me to the mother, who is furious at their callous behaviour. (Why? I don't know. She was pretty mad earlier when she took the girls back inside.) On the other hand, the mother confirms the story. Despite Jorgh's objections, I agree to take the cat in. Everyone looks at the cat, now clawed onto my shirt and scratching me as I take it back to my apartment. It now leads a happy life without little girls trying to perform acrobatics with it on the street.
Jorghnassen is known as doublebof, and we were comparing our OKCupid match questions.
