This Is My Cat, Eggs...

So since I was kind of depressing myself with the last post I decided to write something that dealt with a lighter subject matter.

So last weekend, when we were out celebrating my birthday, no sooner had we made our way upstairs in one bar than my friend Bucky and I got hit on by some smelly drunk guy. I say my friend and I because I'm honestly not sure which one he was trying to get to. He approached me, but I'm fairly certain he never made eye contact with me. Not that he was looking at Bucky, either- he was kind of staring off into nothing.

But drunk and who knows what else as he was, he does get credit for an incredibly original, yet completely ineffective pickup line. Are you ready for it? He comes up to me and says "I need your help with something. If you had twin cats, what would you name them?"

After I got past his stank breath, which nearly knocked me off my feet, I found myself repeating the phrase "twin cats" over and over. What exactly are twin cats? Are any two cats out of the same litter considered twins? Or do they have have identical markings? Was he referring to identical or fraternal twins? I didn't get the chance to clarify all these points because Bucky, almost equally drunk, was rattling off weird names to this guy.

Beavis and Butthead. Harry and Sally. Bacon and Eggs.

I interrupted her here. Bacon and Eggs?

I asked her who names their cats Bacon and Eggs. And what if they're separated for some reason? To prove my point (keeping in mind I had not a drop to drink the entire night unless you count the Diet Coke I inhaled in .05 second flat) I pretended to hold a cat in my hands while introducing it as "this is my cat, Eggs."

For some reason we all found that hysterical. (And by "we" I mean me and Bucky. Smelly guy didn't see the humor in it so much.) Probably because, when pretending to hold the cat, for some reason, I acted as if I were holding a leaking gun out in front of me, with one hand holding the gun with my finger on the trigger, and the other one cupped underneath the first. You know...to catch the leak. And not only did I hold my hands in this unusual way, but I also bounced both hands up and down with every syllable.

Of course, this set drunken Bucky into uncontrollable fits of laughter, between which she was barely able to blurt out "who...holds their cat....like this?" while imitating my stupid movement.

Of course, for the remainder of the night, and most of the next day, "This is my cat, Eggs" was repeated numerous times, while accompanied by the wacky leaky bouncy gun motion.

This is why I can't take Bucky anywhere. But at least the smelly guy went away.