cat vs. whale

some nights i drink cocktails.
and by cocktails, i mean cocktailssssssssssssss.

and some mornings i wake up with a cat in my eye.
and by cat in my eye, i mean some dried out, ass red eyeballs that scare people on the streets. no whites in my eyes. it's nasty. it hurts. and i am so dehydrated from the night before, i can't make tears to remedy this.

yes, i've tried drops.
they don't work.
yazoo pale ale gives me ferris bueller dry eyes.

on these mornings, i walk around the office and co-workers stop me in the hallway to ask me, "what is wrong with your eyes?" when i open my mouth to tell them, they know the answer before i speak. pale ale has some serious staying power. and because everyone knows that i'm hung over from the reek factor, i just wander around muttering. "there's a cat in my eye. i hate cats. fucking cats."

people think i'm crazy.
might be- pale ale is the only thing in my life with staying power.
i know my memory has none.

after 5 years of working downtown, i am well aware of the air vents that blow like whale holes on 7th avenue. i mean this is something i KNOW. countless hours of entertainment have come from watching tourists get accosted by these ginormous blow holes. i thought they were intrinsic to my world view of downtown.

so, i'm walking into work after getting out of my boss's car.
it's rush hour.
i'm wearing a skirt.
and no panties.
and it's not bikini season.
yup.
commuters got an eyeful of cat.

it made me laugh so hard, i peed.
all down my legs.
in the middle of church street.
i fucking hate cats.