A Cat Lady Meets A Lady Cat

I am addicted to food. All I think about lately is food and how I’ve put on weight. 

I love to eat food prepared by other people. I have no issues with dining out alone. I’ve been eating out alone for years. 

So yesterday I needed bread, like something hearty, and I went to a local sandwich shop where they make their own bread. The sandwich special of the day was something called “Salvation”. Not sure what that was about, but any time I see a special, I tend to order it. My theory is that the kitchen is prepared to make a lot of specials, so all ingredients will be fresh and ready, unless they have a lot of product that is getting ready to expire and they need to clear the shelves. I’m going with fresh and ready in this case, because the “Specials” sign looked old, like they use the same specials week-in and week-out. 

This little sandwich shop has a tiny dining area inside, but a nice front porch for outside dining. I needed a little spot where I could spread out and look at my 1790 census book of South Carolina, and there was a little table with a couple of chairs waiting for me. 

The fact that I am carrying around a 1790 census book of South Carolina might be a telling fact why no one bothers me while I am dining alone. They think I’m a bit touched in the head, perhaps. 

So I’m sitting there, minding my own business, and looking at maps on the iPhone, and unwrapping my sandwich, and a little cat came around the corner of the building onto the porch, like she owned the place. She stopped and eyed my sandwich and asked for a piece. 

I complied. She must have been bored with eating the same food every day, because, when I gave her a second bit, she ignored it. 

She knew I had cat food in the car. 

There weren’t any other patrons on the porch. So I left the table as it was, with my wallet and my iPhone and my book and my sandwich sitting there, since the car was close by, and my table was being guarded by a cat. 

She was so happy to get some real commercially-prepared cat food. We sat and ate our lunches, and I found myself talking to her. She was not interested in Scott’s Neck at all. 

I wanted to go back to the restaurant again today. For the bread, of course. But I didn’t, because I’m not *CRAZY*. 

Just ask this cat. She’ll tell you.