I AM UNCOMFORTABLE...

around people that own cats, especially women.  I say that because I don't really know any men that live alone and own cats.  The guys that have cats usually live with their wives or girlfriends and their lady brought the conniving animal into their already failing relationship.  I think I know some gay couples that own cats, but they are exempt because that's another issue.

Not only do most cats make me itchy, they scare the shit out of me.  They are sneaky animals.  Cats are constantly popping up around the corner when you get up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water.  They want you to know that they're watching you carefully and planning their escape.  A cat would trade you in for a fresh litter box and a warm cup of milk in a second.  They hate you.

When I was a kid, I didn't have any friends that had cats.  Everybody in the neighborhood had dogs.  I only remember the one "CAT LADY" on Wall Street.  She lived in the house we called "the jungle" because you couldn't even see her front door.  Most of the houses on the block barely had any trees and this one had 50 on the little front yard.  The foliage hadn't been manicured in 25 years.  The worst part about her Vietnam-like fortress was that there were always cats roaming around.  I would say... she had roughly 20 cats.  Somebody with this many cats could not be normal.

My friends and I used to dare each other to go trick or treating at her house on Halloween ever year.  No one ever wanted to do it.  So one Halloween, I accepted the challenge.  I had to know what went on in there.  Walking through the dark brush, alone, all I could hear was hissing and scary meows.  Really what the cats were saying was, "Get the fuck off of our lawn!"  My short life was flashing before my eyes.  

So I get to the front door, ring the bell and this middle-aged woman answers in a moo-moo.  I say, "trick or treat?"  Stone-faced, she turned and walked away leaving the door open.  As I am pooping my pants standing alone in the dark, keeping my head on a swivel with the cats surrounding me, I decide to lean in and take a peek into the house... And BOOM!   She is standing right there before me in the foyer holding a banana like Norman Bates in "PSYCHO".  I almost had a heart attack.  I fell to a knee for a moment and immediately popped up.  She couldn't have been gone for more than 2 seconds.  It was like she teleported to the fruit bowl in her kitchen and just reappeared in an instant.  Maybe one of the cats brought it to her.  But a banana, really?  I mean, I'm an advocate for good health and all but can I get a KIT-KAT bar for Christ's sake?  I'm 11, not 30.  She reached over to hand it to me.  The thing was all bruised and battered like one of the Real Housewives of Orange county after some plastics work.

I took the banana out of her hand gently and said, "Thank you."  I didn't want to hurt her feelings.  She seemed so sad, so lost.  She half smiled at me like a kid at an INTERNMENT camp that hadn't eaten for weeks and got a candy cane from an armed guard on Christmas.  I smiled back and walked to the street, depressed.  Poor lady.  I really think one of the cats brought her the banana because they knew it would keep the kids away.

The cats controlled her life and actually held her captive.  It was an interesting role reversal.  The least they could do was let her out to get some sunlight.  Dogs would never do this to anyone.  I knew I had to stay away from CATS, especially the musical.

The funny thing with felines, is they love me, even though the feeling is not mutual.  I dated a girl in college that had two cats.  They wouldn't leave me alone.  I had to eat Claritan pills like they were Reece's Pieces.  It was worth it for a while because this girl was hot... real hot.  But after a while I just couldn't take it anymore.  The freaking cats were everywhere... all over the bed, the kitchen counter, the dinner table, the couches and window sills... These little bastards had no boundaries.  So obviously we didn't work out.  They won.  I was defeated by a couple of creepy cats.  She's married to a doctor now.  They probably have 10 cats and I'm so happy for them... or happy that I'm not that dude.

I have vowed to never lose to a cat ever again.  One of the first questions I ask a woman is, "Do you have cats?"  If she says yes, I usually tell her to beat it... unless she is Bridget Moynahan.  Cats are a bigger turn off than a weekend at the NEVERLAND RANCH.  So if you have cats... I don't hate you, but I probably won't come over and if I do it better be worth a Benadryl induced coma, and know this... I am pissed about it.