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How Much Bad Luck Is A Black Cat Worth? |
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*Sighs* Not alot of things went on today, since I slept about half of it away. My dad was getting a little mad, since I had made no plans for my birthday, like where we were going to eat. We got into a big debate over whether deciding not to make a decision was really a decision, and with my Scottish blood from my mom pumping within me, I obviously prevailed. He got way too much into opinions, and I came out in the end with the straight facts.
Anyway, you might be wondering why this headline's about a Cat. Well, after school yesterday, it seemed like God hated me and a few of my friends. My friend Kalen and his girlfriend Katrina, along with another one of my buddies Ricky and I were all driving along in Kalen's car, trying to think of what to do. Kalen has this habit of playing "10 pts." by revving up when there's a pedestrian in our way, only this time the pedestrian unfortunately was a black cat. Ricky and Katrina got real superstitious about it after we had passed the cat, and since there was no wood to knock on, it seemed were doomed. Well, a little way into it, we were gonna meet a friend at Fry's. We got stuck in traffic on the way to the Strip, and while were in traffic for about half an hour, the friend cancelled, telling us to meet him in Henderson. So about 45 min. later, we're almost there again, and he cancels again, saying his truck ran out of gas. On this huge driving journey, I'm on the receiving end of about 12 out of 14 slug bugs, and Ricky declares the whole thing to be the cat's fault.
Kalen, of course, refuses to admit it, until on the way home, he hits a bump, and Ricky spills half a can of Orange Soda all over his white shirt. Once again Ricky calls it on the cat, and I'm all for believing it. We decide to go to the mall, to avoid any more car troubles, and Kalen scrapes his door on the truck parked next to him as he's getting out. Meanwhile, I'm on slug #15 as we make a break for the front door of the mall.
We're safe for a while, as we relax in the massage chairs in Brookstone. I'm thinking about who's left, treating it like a who's next on the list situation from Final Destination. I realize Katrina's the only one left, but she's been in a bad mood all day, so maybe that was hers. We get hungry from being so lazy, but I'm the only one with money, so I end up treating everyone. Then disaster strikes again, but it's on me again. As I'm closing the door to the trash to throw away my corn dog, the cup of mustard the cashier gave me splashes all over my clothes. I end up having to drown my clothes in Axe to try at masking the smell which fails, and have to wear my clothes backwards, praying no one notices, while smelling like deordant and mustard for the rest of the night. We call it a day, and I feel relieved to know at least one of us got out alright, when Katrina says she can't find her cell phone. We retrace our steps to the mall, only to find it closed.
I hate cats so much more now.
Edible Substance · Sun Oct 03, 2004 @ 03:03am · 0 Comments |
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