I ended up sleeping at 4:00 A.M., immediately after my one hundredth rejection. I was out cold until noon. I awakened in a semi-stupor, feeling like I‟d gotten drunk the night before.
There was nothing on my mind except the throbbing mental thought of the one hundred rejections, and all came about within an hour‟s time. I couldn‟t understand what I‟d done to deserve this kind of torment.
Anyway, after roughly fifteen minutes of pondering and wallowing in self-pity I began to feel a craving for food. I didn‟t feel like ordering any food to my room. I figured the best thing to do was go downstairs to the dining hall.
After taking a shower and drying up I went downstairs first to the lobby. I wanted to see my friend Fred. He did much overtime work. I was proud of him being such a hard working fellow. Fred was an incredibly jolly guy. He was the epitome of what a front desk apartment security guard should be; talkative, 210
friendly, in tune about what was going on in the building and having a good demeanour.
As soon as I exited the elevator I walked over to the security counter and then leaped onto it. Because it was Sunday shortly after noon many people in our apartment building had gone out to eat brunch while others were enjoying their food in the dining hall.
“Fred, how are you? C‟mon buddy, what‟s going on?”
“Chip, I‟m always fine after I see your cute face. You are a beautiful sight for sore eyes.
Chip, what have you been doing lately? Man, I haven‟t been seeing you as much.”
“Fred, I ... like ... well you know, cat stuff. I‟ve been taking long walks through Mount Royal and also to the downtown core. I‟ve hit the Eaten Centre on numerous occasions. Their food court is the best in the city, and that includes the suburbs.
But to tell you the truth, before coming downstairs I was thinking about you. I really enjoy being around you.”
“Thanks Chip, but as close friends we should be honest with each other, right?”
“Of course, Fred, I‟m honest with you always.”
“Chip, what‟s the matter with you? I noticed your demeanour has changed even, I mean ... your voice and you look pale, like you‟ve been jilted many times over.”
Although I loved Fred as an incredible friend I couldn‟t tell him about what‟d just happened to me. Some secrets are meant to be kept. So, I decided on a cover story.
“Fred, I was up most of the night reading and watching television. Not enough sleep will do that to you. Otherwise, I‟m as strong as an ox.”
“That‟s good, Chip.
My shift has officially ended. There‟s Hank, he‟s crossing the street and heading in our direction.”
I leaped onto Fred‟s chest and then cupped his face with my paws. Afterwards, I told him to keep up the good work and never lose hope.
As soon as Hank entered the Nielson Apartment building I grinned at Fred and then I leaped onto the carpet and began my walk to the dining hall.
As soon as I reached the edge of the dining hall my mouth began to water, then it began to froth. Indeed, I didn‟t want to disgust any of the customers so I turned back and then headed to the lobby restrooms.
I entered the men‟s restroom took several steps towards the nearest sink and then leaped onto it.
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I proceeded to rinse my mouth and wash my face until I was clean. But even after I‟d finished I simply couldn‟t take my eyes off my own reflection.
Thankfully, after two full minutes I was able to turn my gaze away from my own reflection. I had more important things to think about.
Things went just fine afterwards. I walked to the dining hall entrance scanned the area and then took a nice big sniff.
The scent of food and drinks had almost driven me crazy.
Suddenly, a black-haired, blue-eyed freckled haired hostess approached me. She wore the customary smile on her face, short black dress and white shirt.
“Hi, are you alone or are you expecting company?”
“No, I‟m all alone for this meal. I‟d like to be seated immediately if you don‟t mind. I need some food and liquids in my system because I had a very busy night.”
“I‟m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. Please don‟t tell my boss, he‟ll bitch me out. My name is Candy and I‟ll be your hostess today. Follow me please.”
I followed Candy without uttering a word. I wasn‟t in the mood for a long conversation. I was very hungry, indeed.
Candy sat me next to a window facing a mini waterfall. For a moment, I imagined that I was on a deserted tropical island enjoying a nice swim in steady water.
“Sir, I hope that you enjoy your meal ever so dearly. I figured you wanted a scenic view. Also, look over onto your left. Now that‟s a beautiful aquarium. The sound of the water bubbling and the motion of the fishes usually gives people a calming effect. I hope it does the same to you.
And what would you like to order ... wait, I know your name, you‟re Chip Miller, right.”
“Absolutely so, do you remember my apartment number?”
“Yes, do you want me to charge the bill?”
“Yes, I can pay my tab at the end of the month. I‟ve never had a problem doing things this way before.
Candy, please give me a steak well done, thick ruffled fries, coleslaw and salad for my main course. I also want an extra large glass of chocolate milk, a slice of apple pie and a fruit cocktail.”
“Okay, Chip, it‟ll take roughly twenty minutes for your order to be complete.”
As soon as Candy walked away I began to marvel at the incredible interior of the dining hall. The carpet was burgundy coloured, there were beautiful miniature chandeliers hanging above every dining table, the dim lights of the candles on each of the tables made the dining hall a good place for couples.
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In the middle of the dining hall was a beautiful tree. It must‟ve been watered on a daily basis. It looked very healthy.
I‟d always enjoyed marvelling at beautiful trees. But this tree was off limits for scaling.
The dining hall seated a maximum of five hundred patrons.
However, at the time there were perhaps twenty or so patrons.
Soon, the place would likely fill up. Although I usually enjoy eating around people this particular occasion was different. I was bummed out. I was a bit overly sensitive to stimuli.
I‟d forgotten to tell Candy that I wanted a pitcher of pop.
I love the taste of pop and need the caffeine; that‟s my philosophy.
Like Candy said, it took twenty minutes for my food to be set onto my table.
“Here you go, Chip. Is there anything else that you want?”
“Yes, Candy, I want a pitcher of caffeinated pop, please.
And I‟m sorry for forgetting to tell you something very important. You look remarkably beautiful today. Actually, you‟re drop dead gorgeous.”
“Oh, gosh, Chip, you‟re making me blush. I‟ll get your pitcher immediately.”
As soon as Candy walked away I positioned myself beside the food tray and then began to eat. With a fork in one paw and a knife in another, I dug into my steak with a strong passion. But after just two bites, I stopped dead cold. I‟d forgotten something; I sprinkled pepper on my fries and then poured ketchup on my steak and fries.
I continued eating even after Candy had brought me my pitcher of pop. Apparently, I was so into eating my food I didn‟t notice her.
It took me roughly forty five minutes to clear my plates and pitcher of any trace of food or drink. I felt satiated.
Before leaving I placed a tip for Candy. And as I was leaving the dining hall we took notice of each other. Naturally, we smiled and then we continued on with our lives.
Although I felt good about eating a delicious meal the thought of those rejections was still pulsating in my mind.
Hank was sitting behind the counter watching movies on his computer. He had a remarkable ability to shift his eyes back and forth from the computer monitor to the security monitor. I figured, as long as he did his job satisfactorily it was okay.
Security in large first class apartment buildings is very important.
I continued on my way to the exit and walked off the premises. I felt like strolling around for a few hours. Walking is good for a cat‟s health. It helps to expunge or reduce stress, anxiety and depression.
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But there‟s a limit to the benefits. In addition expunging your inner feelings can sometimes bring about increased negative feelings. Of course, I‟m primarily referring to felines. Humans have quite complicated personalities and a plethora of unusual mental states. Many of them can‟t make up their mind if they‟re happy or sad; a truly unusual thing.
As I was walking through Mount Royal a thought occurred to me. I decided to descend the mountain and then walk eastward on Sherbrooke Street. Every so often I‟d stop and ask a lone pedestrian if he/she would accept me as his/her best friend in the whole world. So far, not a single person had answered in the affirmative.
As I continued walking I took notice of an elderly woman across the street walking in the opposite direction. This woman appeared extremely haggard, as wrinkly as a raison or prune, dishevelled all over and obviously in pain. She was likely in her mid-eighties.
I figured I‟d offer to walk with her up the hill or maybe give her assistance. Or, just a kind word or two, most octogenarians appreciate that.
I ran across the street heading straight for the elderly woman. Apparently, that was my first mistake. I looked like a predatory animal charging a prey target.
As soon as the elderly woman took notice of me she grimaced out of utter fear and shock. Then she laboriously raised her cane, pushed away her stroller and proceeded to bitch me out.
“Damn you, kitty, if you come any closer to me I‟ll bop you on your stinking head with my cane! Now, get on out of here before I call the police. I don‟t take kindly to being charged at, nor do I enjoy being stalked by a kitty. Come to think of it I totally reject, despise and hate cats!”
I stopped dead cold. No knowing exactly what to do I glanced up at the sky, pondered briefly then decided to explain to the elderly woman my intention. Unfortunately, my words had no effect on her.
“Madam, I‟m not trying to pounce on you, nor am I charging you. On the contrary, I was trying to open up a conversation with you; and help you scale the mountain if asked to do so.
Please, let me extend my paw in friendship and sincerity.
I‟m sure you‟re a good woman.
“Damn you, kitty, I don‟t need any deceit from you or anyone else. I told you to leave! Now, I‟m telling you to get the hell out of my face! Got it?!”
Feeling that I had nothing to lose and the possibility of something to gain, I went ahead and asked her „the question‟.
“Madam, can I be your best friend in the whole world?” 214
I guess that was the last straw for the elderly woman.
Instantly, she hurled her cane at me and then mustered all of her strength to raise her stroller up to her chest and then toss it at me.
Thankfully, I was able to get out of the way in the nick of time for both objects. It was clear the elderly woman was off limits.
I felt a sudden rush of fear and anxiety. If someone in the area had called the police it was I who‟d be arrested. The elderly woman would no doubt claim that I initiated an attempted assault upon her; or maybe an attempted robbery.
Just before I decided to run away I took one last final look at the elderly woman.
Apparently, she‟d fallen onto the sidewalk and was in much pain. In fact, she was crying her brains out. I knew very well that she wouldn‟t be able to stand up without assistance. I deduced that she either had a serious case of arthritis or osteoporosis. I was so tensed up I couldn‟t even call for an ambulance fearing for my own fate. To make matters worse she suddenly directed a hostile frown upon me.
I turned facing due south. After a brief pause I ran away from the scene as fast as possible. I ended up on Greene Avenue, a nice location to see and meet people.
But then, I heard sirens converging upon the area. I had to go away even further. I crossed the street and continued southwards unto Maisonneuve Blvd.
I felt that I was now in the clear. After scanning the area just in case I turned left heading eastward towards the downtown core.
I made it a point to stop a pedestrian at the end of each block and ask him/her the best friend in the whole world question.
By the time I reached Guy Street it became clear that the game was virtually over. I‟d received one rejection after another. Most people snubbed or ignored me. I was bitched out on two occasions. One person, a young man told me that I had to do a job for him first. The guy looked like a total creep; a criminal who‟d never really take me as a friend. If it‟d been dark I would‟ve punched him in the face. But being as things were it was 2:35 P.M. on a Sunday. The last thing I needed was another convergence of sirens. I figured I‟d already pressed my luck.
Guy Street is a very busy juncture. There‟s a university nearby, restaurants and numerous apartment and business buildings. Buses are almost constantly moving, and the Guy Metro Station (Subway Station) is right there; two entrances that help further liven up the area.
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I decided to enter Guy Metro in order to go to Montreal North. I wanted a change in atmosphere, so why not go there I said to myself.
Upon entering Guy Metro I was forced to squeeze my way through the entrance and then run to the escalator and hold my ground, not letting anyone try to push me down. There was a large convergence of people because the #165 bus had just stopped in front of the Metro Station. It was full, and like a large herd of wildebeest many of the passengers ran to the Metro entrance.
The crowd was so large I went ahead and crept underneath the revolving bars. I didn‟t feel like leaping onto the scanning platform and scanning my monthly pass on it. I was bummed out and just wanted to move on.
As soon as I reached the bottom level I stayed put, waiting attentively for the Angrignon train to arrive. I felt a bit of a rush knowing that I could hear the oncoming train before any of the humans around me. It was a brief lift-up but not enough to cure my ailment.
A few minutes later I heard the oncoming train. I prepared myself for a possible shoving match. When those train doors would open the human passengers certainly wouldn‟t move out of the way for a kitty. I extended my claws and bared my canines for everyone to see.
As soon as the train arrived I hissed and meowed just loud enough for the people around me to step aside so I could enter the train cart first; it was my right as a proud feline.
But I was polite enough to move out of the way of the exiting passengers. They have the right of way, understandably.
As soon as I entered the train I spotted an empty chair.
Instantly, I leaped onto it and stayed put.
Although there was a vacant seat beside me I made certain that no one dared to sit there. All I had to do was extend my claws for them to see and bare my menacing canines. I wasn‟t in the mood for play talk or conversing of any sort.
After two stops I exited the train and then crossed over to the Cote Vertu train stop.
I waited patiently for the train to arrive, behaving as I did on the green line. Thankfully, everyone in the train stayed staid clear.
It took me roughly twenty minutes from my initial entry into Guy Metro to get to Cote Vertu Metro. I exited the train and then slowly walked up the stairs, used the escalators and then exited the metro station.
Upon taking my first breath outside, I scanned the area. I turned left and walked due north towards a large residential area.
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I walked for roughly forty five minutes before entering an area containing Italian restaurants and businesses. I was happy, smelling pizza, spaghetti, ravioli, lasagne and all that other pasta and more beautiful Italian foods. It was only a matter of time before I had something to eat. In fact, I began to drool like a dog.
But there was something unusual in the air. I scented an incredibly powerful scent of pizza. It was, no doubt, the best pizza in the whole world. Instinctively, I followed the trail like a wild animal, but I had to change directions heading due west.
After walking for three blocks I finally came across the origin of the scent. A sign above the restaurant read Maranzano‟s Pizza Palace.
To tell you the truth I lost it! I completely forgot about the human economic law of paying for merchandise. I literally reverted to my wild nature. I was forced to focus my concentration on the kitchen of Maranzano‟s Pizza, further focusing on a single slice of pizza that stood out. It was gargantuan in size and I knew it would be „a hernia‟ to snatch away, but I had to have it. As far as I was concerned that gargantuan slice of pizza was mine for the taking; it was my inherent right as a cat.
I froze in place like a lion targeting a prey animal. Then, I crouched down, zooming in quite accurately at the counter the slice of pizza was on.
I slowly crept towards my target, but making the horrible mistake of not scanning the area first. I‟d later realize my mistake.
Then, enough with the creeping, my instincts worked in full gear. I charged towards my slice of pizza, leaping onto the counter, ignoring the two kitchen workers and then snatching it.
But the damn thing wouldn‟t budge. It was that big.
Luckily, my predatory hormones and instincts went into overdrive causing my strength to increase several fold.
Nonetheless, it was still a laborious activity. I snatched the slice of pizza and then leaped onto the kitchen floor. As I was hop-running away like a squirrel the gargantuan slice of pizza flopped up and down. From afar, it looked like my tongue.
Meanwhile, the kitchen workers were screaming and shouting at me.
“Hey, ass-ole, come back with our f-cking pizza! You can‟t do that! We‟re calling Victor Maranzano!”
A moment later both kitchen workers exited the kitchen carrying hatchets and began to chase me. It was quite obvious what they‟d intended to do if they‟d captured me. There‟d be no trial or questioning. How beastly of them.
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I ran into a wooded area nearby, not stopping until I was deep into it and certain that no one had picked up my trail. As soon as I stopped running I collapsed onto the ground beside a beautiful tree.
As I guessed my slice of pizza weighed 10 lbs. It smelled really nice, had thick crust and extra sauce and was all dressed; it even had pineapple on it.
I passed out for roughly fifteen. It was an incredibly laborious act to get my slice of pizza deep into the wooded area.
But as soon as I awakened I began to feast on my food. I enjoyed every single bite that I took. This Maranzano fellow really knew his business. I‟d never eaten pizza that was that delicious. It was so incredible I almost went into convulsions, not being able to handle the beautiful taste.
As soon as I finished eating my pizza I felt an urge to take a nap but decided against it for security purposes. I figured the best thing to do was to walk to the other side of the wooded area, slip away and then return to the metro station in order to go home.
But while I was walking through the wooded area I heard sirens going off in all directions. It sounded like police sirens and the sound was getting louder and louder.
I couldn‟t quite understand what the big deal was. One slice of pizza could never put anyone out of business. I mean, I was certain that Maranzano, the owner of the pizza joint must‟ve been a millionaire, perhaps a multi-millionaire. It totally pisses me off how some people can be such misers. They have absolutely no mercy upon others. I figured this Maranzano fellow never gave a dime to a beggar.
There was only one thing to do; stay alert at all times and leave the area. I resumed my trek back towards Cote Vertu Metro.
Shockingly, as soon as I left the wooded area a patrol car appeared at the end of the block.
I quickly turned and then leaped back into the wooded area.
I hid for a short while, noticing that more patrol cars began to converge upon the area.
I was now pretty certain that the police assumed that I was gonna escape through the wooded area. I decided to behave illogically. It appeared to be the best option.
Naturally, I backtracked through the wooded area until I reached the peripheral, but made certain to hide behind a large tree.
I peered from behind the tree several times before realizing that I needed a higher vantage point to see more. I scaled the tree and then tuned into what was going on.
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To my utter shock there were five patrol cars parked in front of Maranzano‟s Pizza Palace. There was also a dark Sedan nearby. The man standing beside it was none other than the Mayor of Montreal, Sammy „Big Boy‟ Matuziak. Even his name sounded tough.
Mayor Matuziak embraced an obese man and then gave him a kiss on each cheek. Now I‟ve seen men kiss each other on the cheek, but these kisses were those of tough guys. I was almost certain that Mayor Matuziak was on someone‟s payroll.
The obese man who was kissed was wearing a white tank-top shirt revealing a sagging chest, blubbery arms, and a hefty stomach. This guy certainly ate well. And not only that, he was sweating like a typical fat Mediterranean man.
For some unknown reason, the obese man spoke from the corner of his lips; his right side to be precise. Things were now falling into place.
I‟d basically hit the wrong pizza joint. It was owned and operated by some powerful men of the syndicate.
Thankfully, the area was dark and the street lights were dim. The neighbours were probably too terrified to leave their homes.
Soon, the patrol cars had disappeared; also the Sedan.
But replacing these cars were five others, not one of them had markings on them. I had no idea who the passengers were. I had to wait and see.
As soon as the cars were parked in front of Maranzano‟s Pizza Palace, the drivers and passengers exited their cars.
These fellows looked very tough; I was in for it I thought to myself.
I zoomed in really hard on the action and I also cropped up my ears. I had to hear what they were saying.
“Mr. Maranzano, we‟re very sorry about what happened. Rest assured, sir, we‟ll do whatever‟s possible to capture the kitty who stole your ten pound slice of pizza.
Mr. Maranzano, please give us directions as to how we should pursue this case and whatever else you need from us.”
“Joey, Frankie, Stevie and Butch, look, I take this theft very personally. You hear me?”
“Yes boss, Mr. Maranzano,” they replied.
“Nobody in this city steals Mr. Maranzano‟s specially made slice of pizza; especially when the slice is in my restaurant while I‟m f-cking starving and I‟m waiting on it to be served to me while I‟m f-cking sitting down in my favourite table.
Damn it! I don‟t care how long it takes just find that damn kitty! Then, I want you to give him „the kangaroo punishment‟.”
“Boss, what‟s the kangaroo punishment?” exclaimed one of the men.
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“Wait a minute! How long have you been working for the Maranzano family?”
“Boss, Mr. Maranzano, I‟m a newbie, just started working for your family a few days ago.”
“Okay, in case some of you other clowns don‟t what the kangaroo is but are too afraid to ask, well I‟ll tell you right now; the kangaroo punishment entails smashing the forelegs of a cat. We‟ve done this before it‟s extremely effective and humorously painful ... for the victim not for us. In fact, we haven‟t had a problem with a cat in years. I don‟t understand how this cat couldn‟t have known.
Anyway, after you smash the cat‟s forelegs you‟ve gotta bring him back to me. But, I must also receive a one hour advance notice because you‟re gonna bring him to my home residence. I wanna be eating at one end of my dining table while I interrogate this unlucky kitty.
Wait a minute ... There‟s more! You must use a miniature wrecking ball to smash his forelegs.
If you clowns can‟t do the job within seventy two hours I‟ll be very angry. In that case, I‟ll have to call in for support; we‟ve got friends in Toronto, Vancouver, New York, Atlantic City, Miami and Los Angeles.
One last thing get the word out that there‟s a one hundred thousand
dollar
reward
from
Mr.
Maranzano
himself
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