2000-06-17: A Cat Gone Golden
Well, there I was, tending the ol’ bar in Skara as usual’ We’d just opened and this bloke comes tripping through the door. Now, as I’ve said before, working a bar you see all sorts of folks with a few loose screws, but thems the folk that usually only come out and night, and after a few good ales if you know what I mean. Anyhow, this bloke was straight off batty from the beginning, can’t blame the ale on this one. He walks right in the tavern, stumbles over to the corner, and just sort of sits there for a minute, completely ignoring my attempt to welcome him into such a fine establishment.
A few more minutes go by, and just when I’d completely forgot about the chap, he starts mumbling something in the corner. Well, I look up cause I think maybe he’s come to his senses and is thinkin’ of ordering some food or something, but no such luck. The loon is sitting there talking to himself. No problem I thought, I’d seen people off their rocker before, just meant no ale for him.
More time passed, and he was still off in the corner chatting with himself. No one else had bothered to come into the tavern yet, so I figured I’d attempt to, you know, strike up a conversation with the loon. I thought I’d start off with some humor to lighten the mood a little, so I goes up to him and I says, ’Mind introducing me to your friend here?’. Well that really knocked the ol’ bloke off his rocker, his twine snapped if you know what I mean, and he starts yelling at himself ’bout not introducing his other self to me’ Then just as quick as it started, he stops, he stands up and walks over to the bar itself, sits down on a stool, and yells over to my stunned self for a drink. All I could do in response was shrug, walk back to the bar, and hands him an ale. The first one was on the house.
Now here’s the part that leaves me scratching my noggin’’ The fella was up at the bar now having his drinks. We’d both been real quiet, I sure weren’t going to press his ’funny button’ again and s’long as he wasn’t talking to his imaginary friend I’d keep on serving him. Well now, after ’bout his forth drink he stands up and starts to make a beeline for the door. I don’t care if you think you’re British himself, you ain’t leaving my pub without paying, so I yells at him, ’Ya best be planning on paying before you’s even think of stepping outside that door fella.’ I’m still shaking my head o’er what a mistake that was.
The bloke turns around, and a course I flipped his loony switch cause now he’s talking to himself again. I can’t say I heard a word of what he was saying, but soon as my cat Friskis came walking in from whate’er alley he’d been crawling about in, all attention was turned on him. The bloke tried to argue with himself some more, but ’parently he lost and quick as you can say ‘presto’ there was ol’ Friskis sitting at my feet solid as a lump a gold’ In fact, he was a lump a gold, the purest I’d ever seen.
’Course I weren’t thinking of any of this at the time, seeing Friskis freeze up like that sent me into a bit of a panic, that certainly weren’t no way for the cat to go. And when I finally pulled my eyes up from the floor, I caught the stranger, making his last step out the tavern, turn ’round and open his hollow mouth.
’A small sample my friend, only a small sample,’ he said.
