Reuben & Rutger

Every time it rains, really rains, the plumbing goes out and the toilet stops flushing – something to do with hydrostatic pressure I suppose, well and septic tank pipes filling up with ground water. From time to time I hear this ominous, Glug, glug, glug coming from the drains like Pennyworth the Clown communicating with Cthulu in Morse code.

I have some specialty orders to write– descriptions of Turkish villages on the Turquoise Coast plus two scare pieces on the dangers of plagiocephaly, or flat-headedness in children, apparently a worldwide epidemic. Plus the house is a mess – I need to clean the kitchen, vacuum.

The date was… interesting. That’s all I’m going to commit myself to. I’ll go on one more date and see if it is similarly… interesting. Guy is pretty cool but likes pushing my buttons as a way of showing affection – kind of like we’re still in 5th grade. Plus I’m way prettier than he is. Looks are not important so far as I’m concerned, and never have been: The only thing I’m looking for in a potential romantic partner/fuck buddy is whether or not he or she gets my obscure movie and literary references. But this guy is self-conscious about his weight issues. You can only tell someone once that John Goodman is on your list of the Ten Sexiest Men, y’know?

Reuben’s barbecue was similarly… interesting: I was the only female, English speaker and, indeed, guest; a great deal of meat was served, very tasty meat, but at the best of times, I’m not much of a meat eater – when I’m not cooking for RTT I mostly subsist on salads, grilled cheese sandwiches and Greek yogurt. Reuben pressed huge amounts of meat on me to take home, which the Petsers enjoyed.

Behold, meat and Reuben through a scratched iPhone camera lens – one more thing to get repaired because I can’t take care of my own stuff, sigh.

The big news, I suppose, is the menagerie addition: Ben worked with a guy called Dave at the movie theater; Dave was diagnosed with a brain tumor about six months ago. Dave’s personal history moved me for various reasons: Once owned the Elmira Drive-in Movie Theater, sold it for cash 20 years ago, took all the cash and put it into a safety deposit box, became increasingly forgetful as rapidly progressing glioma turned frontal lobes to Swiss Cheese so that now cannot remember name of the bank where $60,000 in 1990 is parked. Has no family; had the big terminal seizure last week.

Dave had a cat…

Dave called him “Maxx” which for obvious reasons won’t work.

I named him “Rutger” – he has kind of buff-colored fur and kind of a Flemish look to him. I’m not sure Dave liked the cat particularly. Rutger has that kind of miserable, aggressive behavior of a cat that’s deeply timid, deeply confused but innately kind of affectionate except no one has ever really petted him much. He was described to me as a neutered male but his boy parts look to be intact so Rutger has a date with the ASPCA spay team on 9/13.

So far Rutger just hangs out in the bathroom and hisses. The other pets ignore him.