"Tell me you are not where I think you are." Jungkook's voice echoes out from the speaker of my phone. I smile sheepishly, noting my surroundings. The wall of kennels, filled with cats of various ages and colours look back at me. The one in the middle, labelled 'Hank', a grey tabby with white markings and long fur, turns over on his back exposing a large white belly. My heart explodes at the cuteness.
"Fine, I won't tell you." I reply blithely. This is my happy place, the cat adoption center at the pet store. It's where I come when the world is falling apart.
Unfortunately, somebody doesn't exactly approve. But today is the day. I'm going to do it. I'm getting a cat and there's nothing Jungkook can say to convince me otherwise.
I hear a sigh on the other end of the line, "Lisa.…"
"Nope, I have no time for reasonable arguments. I just want to fill the emptiness of my life with unconditional love. I think I'll name him Captain Fluffypants…or Rhett Butler. I haven't decided yet, it depends on how cute he is." I steamroll over his protest, looking back at the selection of furballs.
"Resist the call of the cat. You don't need a cat." He repeats, in a clear and decisive tone and I resist the urge to scoff.
"I think I do. I've given up. I'm going to live out the rest of my sad spinster years in sweatpants and surrounded by cats and I'll laugh at all of their quirky high jinks! Every single one!"
"One bad relationship does not mean you'll be alone forever."
"I won't be alone. I'll have Han Solo…that's a good name right? I'll tell him I love him constantly, and he'll meow back that he knows. It's perfect. And it wasn't just one bad relationship. It was a lot of bad relationships."
Jungkook groans so loudly I have to pull the phone away from my ear. "Have you considered therapy?"
"Have you considered that the entire male population is terrible?" I ignore his yelp of anger and continue my rant. "No offense, kook, but I've been a witness to all your doomed relationships. You're my best friend, but you're the worst when women are involved."
"The worst? Girls know exactly what they're getting when they go home with me. We enjoy each other and then go our separate ways. I never lie to them and promise a future. It's just sex."
"And that's the problem most men have. They want the sexy nympho to come over, screw their brains out, and leave the next morning." I ignore the scathing glance of the elderly lady picking up a bag of food in the adjacent aisle. An older gentleman joins her and her face just lights up, and I just want to cry. Now I'm jealous of disapproving old ladies. What next? A love of smooth jazz? They join hands and continue moving at a glacial pace away from me, matching orthopaedic shoes squeaking on the linoleum. So. Freaking. Precious.
I turn back to the cats before continuing, "I want a forever. I want to become one half of a boring old married couple playing euchre on the porch of their retirement home. It's not like I'm asking for a fairytale. I just want…contentment. And in the absence of any potential Ed Asner to my Betty White, I'm going the way of the spinster while I'm still young enough to enjoy it."
"You do realize Ed Asner and Betty White aren't a couple, right?"
"They should be! He's so grouchy, she's so sassy. They're perfect for each other."
