Holy smoking cat bootay!

Once upon a time while I was off on an overseas adventure I went away for the weekend to a renowned war plane show that was held in a gorgeous and picturesque little town out in the middle of nowhere. On this particular weekend the small town was about as crammed full of tourists as Mariah Carey in one of her ridiculously tight sausage dresses.

Both accommodation and restaurant bookings had to be made far in advance. Luckily for me I had a few connections and was fortunate enough to be able to stay at a rather flash bed and breakfast inn. The proprietor referred me to some nice local dining establishments, one of which was called The White House.

Upon arriving for dinner at The White House I was quite pleased to find a beautiful old house that had been turned into a restaurant. My dinner companion and I were escorted to a prime table right next to a large stone fireplace that was roaring with a cozy fire. How lovely I thought.

Once seated and enjoying a delicious glass of wine, out of nowhere came this wee little cat that proceeded to crawl up on my lap and make itself at home. Now the last time I encountered a feline in a dining establishment was a three-legged-one-eyed cat in some restaurant in Mexico. But being that this was clearly a house cat and not some mangy mongrel I decided to opt for the whole 'when in Rome' thing and let the sweet little kitty stay put.

All was good until such point that a second critter, a.k.a. alpha Bully Cat decided that the first kitty could take an effing hike. Bully Cat chased Sweet Kitty off my lap and settled in for a snooze. Sweet Kitty went all passive-aggressive and found Bully Cat’s favorite spot on the bear skin rug in front of the fire (right next to my table) -- and proceeded to take a ginormous piss.

Out of the shadows came the restaurant owner with a spray bottle full of magic purple ‘cat-pee-be-gone’ and he commenced with cleaning up the mess as if stuff like that happened every day. Sweet Kitty was summarily shooed away by the owner.

After Sweet Kitty was gone, Bully Cat decided to move off of my lap and over to the chair next to me. About that time dinner was served, the wine was flowing, the fire was crackling, and all was right in the world …or so we thought.

All of a sudden I heard this loud hissing screech. Bully Cat then jumped up like he had been catapulted out of a rocket cannon …eyes all crazy looking and ass-hair smoking. Apparently an ember had shot from the fire and landed smack dab on Bully Cat’s arsehole.

And somewhere in a dark corner Sweet Kitty quietly smiled and thought to himself “karma’s a bitch ain’t it?”

Happy Weekend my lovelies!
xo The Empress