Right before heading on vacation, I noticed that a copy of Gayme was flagrantly sitting atop my stacks of newly rediscovered books and magazines that haven’t found a permanent space yet. Thinking of that story about a man being busted for kiddie porn after maintenance workers noticed naked boys on his screensaver, I didn't think it was wise to leave such things out in the open lest the cat/mail lady who would be in our apartment sporadically over the next week turn me into the feds. I mixed up the pile.
Yet when I returned home the NAMBLA Bulletin was sitting on top. I’m 98% certain I didn’t leave it that way. I’m not sure if I'm ok with the cat lady and/or her boyfriend (I'm never clear on who actually comes over to feed the cats) thinking either James or I is a pedophile.
Perhaps it was karma because the vintage wooden cat trinkets I bought on Etsy that were recorded by the USPS as being delivered April 18 were nowhere to be found when I came home. I'm not friends with my neighbors, the super throws out anything he sees in the hall and the postman is an asshole who leaves mail on the ground instead of using mailboxes. Anyone could be the culprit but part of me wonders if the cat/mail lady didn't somehow have something to do with my missing package of feline collectibles.
I just noticed that the 2007 New York Times story I linked to above was written by one of my apartment's residents, not that that has anything to do with anything.
2 thoughts on “When the Cat’s Away”
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