My first real job has a lot of fucked up shit about it.
And I would bitch about that fucked up shit at my next job.
Then, when I got another job, I’d bitch about the fucked up shit at the previous job, but I’d bitch less about the fucked up shit from the first job.
Job after job, I’d bitch about the fucked up shit, but over time, I’d bitch less and less about the earlier jobs.
Until I totally forgot about that first job’s shit.
Because of all the fucked up shit from the other jobs I’ve had.
Author: R.
Weekly Challenge #955 – Cat’s Pajamas
TOM
With red pizza pattern
They used to be my pajamas, now they are the Cat’s pajamas. They were a goodwill purchase ages ago. I think it’s the color that alph-cat is drawn to. If the basket lingers for a mere moment the cat will dig down to the pizza pajamas. It isn’t good enough to be on the pajamas, the cat must be inside of one leg, while her head is poking out. When caught she eyeballs me back with an expression of “So”. Total ownership. When I am wearing said evening wear the cat will glide past a leg and thwack my ankle.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert’s mother looked at the clock. “Oh. It’s late. Go get Sabrina my pajamas and show her to the guest room.”
Rummaging through his mother’s dresser, Billbert found some PJs with cats on them. “You like cats, don’t you?”
Billbert gave her the pajamas and pointed down the passage. “The guest room is next to mine.”
Sabrina didn’t move. “You don’t seem very happy to have me here.”
Billbert shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a girl staying in our house; especially a girl who’s a friend.”
Sabrina frowned. “Would it be any different if I were a boy?”
LIZZIE
“The Cat’s Pajamas” was the name of the play. It involved a man pretending to play the piano on a rock plateau surrounded by water while the audience tried to reach him. They had to climb over rocks, slide on their butts, dodge rolling boulders, till they reached the water level. Most were taken to hospital with broken limbs. Several ended up in the morgue. And one managed to overcome all the hurdles. He got a certificate with a neat little stamp and a ribbon. Was there any music, the media asked. Ahm, nope, none whatsoever. Just wackos, many wackos.
SERENDIPIDY
We’re not completely evil you know.
Certainly we get a bad press, and I’ll be first to admit we deserve most of it, but we do have a good side. It’s just that most people never get to see it.
Why else would we choose cats to be our familiars?
You’d imagine rats or lizards, or even spiders would be more appropriate?
But we prefer cats, because even witches like cuddles and cuteness from time to time.
I even made mine special cats’ pajamas, because she gets cold at night.
And I’m far too stingy to put the heating on.
RICHARD
Animal Instincts
She thought she was the cat’s pajamas, the bee’s knees, and the dog’s… well, you know the expression.
The fact is, with all that morphine sloshing around inside her system, you could have told her she was the monkey’s uncle, and she’d believe you.
It was amusing, both for her and for us spending long hours at her bedside, and it took everyone’s minds off the pain.
Thankfully, neither the pain, nor the idiocy lasted, and eventually, she was nursed back to full health.
Not entirely a good thing, unfortunately.
Now, she behaves like a bear with a sore head.
PLANET Z
Every few days, the cats change their sleeping spots.
I’ve tried heated cat beds before, but neither cat used them.
Instead, they’d choose a shoe box, or under a pillow on the bed, or on a blanket in the reading room.
Laundry baskets are a frequent selection. Especially when there’s soft things to shed all over.
It’s all going in the wash anyway, right?
Except that shed cat hair clogs up the lint trap or gets all over everything like a shredded kleenex left in a pocket.
And keep the dryer closed.
To keep the cats from sleeping in there.
Trackpad
Ever glide your finger across the trackpad and the cursor doesn’t move?
Tap it. Double tap it. Three finger wipe.
Nothing at all.
You type on the keyboard and text doesn’t appear, and you’re all DAMMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT and type all kinds of angry shit on your keyboard and nothing’s appearing.
You switch it on and off, still nothing.
Then you realize you’re using your work keyboard and trackpad, not your personal keyboard and trackpad?
And you look over at the insane crap you’ve sent to your team’s Slack channel on your work system and think “Time for a break.”
Bus Stop
I don’t like to drive Downtown, so I take the bus to the train, which takes me to the ballpark.
The transfer is at Houston Community College, and the stop is across from a bar.
I check my bus system app for times, and I’ve got 30 minutes to wait for the next bus.
So, I head into the bar, get a coke, and relax in a leather chair.
Others sit at the bus stop, in the heat, on an uncomfortable concrete bench, or standing around.
My watch rings, I pay my tab, and go outside for the arriving bus.
Hood over her head
The new girl wore one of those whole body cloaks and long gloves, and a hood over her head.
She had a note from her parents.
Bobby says it was something about a skin condition.
“You’re so full of shit,” said Lisa. “It’s religious.”
Instead of gym, she read books in the library.
And she never ate lunch with us or rode the bus.
A black van dropped her off and picked her up.
Bobby said he’d try to see what she looked like.
Five minutes later, we found him in the hall.
Breathing heavy, eyes glazed, pale and cold.
Cemetery tango
The protests started over White actors playing Hispanic roles.
“Only Hispanic people can play Hispanic roles,” said The Hispanic Actors’ Alliance.
So, Hollywood consented.
Similar protests erupted over Chinese roles, German roles, Fat roles, Gay roles, and every other demographic imaginable.
Casting for movies, shows, plays, and commercials became more complicated.
“Only real witches can play witches!” demanded the Witches Acting Coven. “And the depiction better be a positive one!”
Things got out of hand when the dead demanded to play dead historical figures.
Moaning and shambling around Hollywood Forever Cemetery, their agents and publicists trying not to get eaten.
Out on the lake
Every time Lacey went for figure skating lessons, she’d watch the boys at the other end of the rink with their hockey lessons and wonder.
“I want to try that,” she said.
Her mom was horrified, but her dad said that Lacey’s teeth were coming in crooked anyway, why not get the rink paying for new ones.
She was fast and could turn on a dime.
Some moose crashed her into the boards, and she was out cold for a minute.
The team dropped her after that, but now and then she still played pickup games out on the lake.
Not a clue
Tickets to the event had been sold out since May.
Somehow, Holly scored a pair, and asked her friend Tina to come along.
“What is it for?” asked Tina.
“The best show ever!” said Holly .
“But what is it?” Tina asked.
Holly didn’t know.
She looked at the tickets, but they just had the date, the time, and the venue on them.
She couldn’t remember how she got them.
Even her credit card statement didn’t give a clue.
“We’ll go and find out,” Holly said.
When the day came, they got out of the Uber and walked into the door.
Weekly Challenge #954 -Now and Then
The next topic is Cat’s pajamas
IAN
The Ruby-Colored Stone
Dozing off he recalled happier, innocent days.
The little pebbles in the shallows of the stream had appeared so beautiful, like jewels, shiny and colorful. He would pick ones he liked and take them home.
Once, a lovely ruby-colored one caught his eye. None other compared. He would take it and cherish it forever, this one only.
But like all the others when out of the water, it lost its luster and was just a stone.
Coming out of his slumber, he looked across the room. There she sat, the one he had loved and married, their passionless eyes meeting.
LISA
Remembering
It was odd to think of now and then – those basement days seemed a lifetime ago. I asked my neighbour quietly over dinner if she ever still thought about them.
The conversation spread down the table. Between us we remembered the newspapers that we’d seen. The boys that had gone missing too. The girl’s bodies that had been found. It felt wrong to be talking about these things. He never brought them up and it was obviously something that he didn’t want us to be thinking about.
It wasn’t long before he was behind me, a hand on my shoulder.
LIZZIE
It happened now and then. The music started. The dancing ensued. The portable record player sang in tune. She sat there, at the party, looking at strangers, acquaintances and lovers. What were the odds… All four of them, chatting, oblivious to the invisible link that connected them, enjoying their beers and cracking jokes. A fun night out. Each one of them added something to her empty life. So, she collected them. And she hid. “Had too much to drink, be right back.” The trail of tears sounded pretty much like the record player, playing those tunes, one tear after another.
RICHARD
– Punching out –
So, I got fired!
I won’t argue the point, I deserved it, but you know what? I really don’t care at all.
Gross professional misconduct they called it, I call it ‘he had it coming!’
I’m sure you’d agree with me if you’d ever met my ex-boss. I don’t think I’ve ever met such a demanding person in my life.
Nothing was ever done quickly enough for him. Everything was ‘immediately’, ‘right now’, or ‘forthwith’.
Then, one fateful day, he dropped a pile of files on my desk and demanded I deal with them… NOW!
And then, I punched him!
TOM
How green was my valley
Sally didn’t like coming back to see her mother. What was once fields of blossoms, now was a wall of towers blotting out the sun. She knew even back then it was only a matter of time the southern push of San Fransisco would spill over into her neighboring counties. What was truly the death knell of her tiny patch of paradise was the city built by billionaires. It started out well meaning, but once the water and power was diverted from the rest of California. The all of the state became a backwater. It made Tokyo look downright spacious.
864
Smokestack Lightning
The coolest thing my high school did was drop major coin on our legendary spring concert. Somehow, we got Howling Wolf to play for the whitest audience in greater Chicagoland. Our school radio station ran 16 mic-s in the gym and we mixed two Sony 16 track decks. For the longest time I didn’t know who ended up will the reel to reels. It seems someone had filed them in a box marked: Wolf. We remastered the tapes in the fall of 2019. Also found my original art work for the concert. Resurrection II. Silhouette of wolf howling at the moon.
SERENDIPIDY
Every now and then the villagers come round with their pitchforks and blazing torches, determined to run me out of town.
They say that I’m responsible for their children going missing and the crops failing, accusing me of being a witch, even a demon.
It’s always a waste of time though, because I’m never in when they come calling, and eventually, after hanging around for a few hours, they pack up and return home.
I actually quite like it when they turn up.
It gives me an opportunity to nip out, steal their children and salt the fields, in peace.
NORVAL JOE
That night, Billbert sat in the living room, looking at the clock every now and then, wondering where he mother was.
Finally he heard her. “Billbert. Guess who’s here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billbert got to his feet as his mother and Sabrina came into the room.
“What’s she doing here?” Billbert asked.
“Billbert!” His mother frowned at him, darkly. “The discharge planner said Sabrina had healed enough to leave. I convinced the social worker that she could stay with us, until a permanent placement can be made.”
Billbert shrugged. “I guess she can sleep in the guest room.”
TURA
Now and Then
———
It takes forever to pack for the renaissance fair. The tent (authentic canvas of course, none of these modern featherweight things). Piles of clothes, that represent hundreds of hours of weaving and sewing. Everything we’ll be selling, crafting supplies for making more and giving demonstrations, all organized in wooden chests.
We drive the whole day, sleep in the van overnight, and finally arrive the next day. Find our village, pitch the tent and our market stalls, clear all plastic away, pass inspection by the grockles.
At last we can relax, and tell each other, that was now, this is then.
PLANET Z
It’s okay to treat yourself now and then.
But when you eat too much and exercise too little, now and then becomes better not.
Last night, I had a salad for dinner, and it was really good.
The others then said they were going out to pick up Taco Bell.
Did I want them to pick up anything for me?
I thanked them, but declined.
Are you sure?
I’m sure.
Some of that is willpower, but the truth is, I don’t need bad gas and indigestion on top of being fat and sick.
I shrug and go for a walk.
CHATGPT
In a quiet village, Emily stumbled upon an old, dusty box in her grandmother’s attic. Inside were letters from her grandmother, Lucy, to her younger self. Each letter contained dreams, hopes, and fears from the past, with Lucy’s present reflections scribbled in the margins. Emily read with wonder, feeling connected across time. One letter ended with a poignant question: “Did I become who I dreamed I’d be?” Inspired, Emily penned her own letter to the future, realizing that “now” is just as vital as “then.” As she closed the box, Emily felt the weight of time and possibility intertwine.
The Little Thief
In the first grade, the classroom had pegs and cupboards along one wall with a false wall separating the area from the classroom.
We’d put our coats, mittens, scarves, and snow boots over there.
We didn’t have backpacks or books to take home. All the work was done in class.
Every so often, a kid would bring something in and leave it in a cupboard.
I swear, I didn’t steal anything.
I just liked to move things from one cupboard to another. Cover them with a cap.
The kid caught with the stuff would deny taking it.
And I’d smile.