Sign Me Up - Post Malone

10

We walk into the vet building, Austin speaks to the receptionist while I sit down and cuddle Cat, who has started to become very niggly and vocal; I suspect she is hungry. Thankfully, the vet sees us almost immediately, and then I have to stand aside while the vet pokes and prods poor little Cat. "She is fine, no rabies, but I will take blood anyway. No broken bones or cuts...she is fine. What do you want to do with her? I can phone a rescue centre; they will take her," he says. I bite my lip and look at Austin, who seems deep in thought and avoids my stare. "How much work is a skunk?" he asks.

"Honestly? Not much, they are like having a cat."

"What about their..." he says and then makes a flicking action with his fingers.

"Spray?"

"Mhmm."

"I mean they only do that as a last resort. But, most people have their sack removed."

"Oh! No! We can't do that! That's horrible," I groan. "It's perfectly safe and she doesn't need it. But, if we take her to the rescue centre, they won't bother with that...so...should I call the rescue centre?" the vet asks. I force myself to stay quiet and stare desperately at Austin my eyes big and round as I mentally plead with him. He sighs heavily and shakes his head. "We will keep it, she wants the dam thing," he says, "heaven fucking help me," he whispers to himself. "Great. I will take her to the back and get her cleaned up if you like. There is a large pet store down the road, you will be able to get everything you need for her there," the vet says. "Thank you!" I say and turn to rush out but Austin catches me and takes my hand, forcing me to walk slowly with him. He is like an old man.

The pet store is enormous and has something for everyone. After explaining to the shop assistant that I need things for a teeny tiny skunk, he leads us to an aisle filled with cat things, and so I load Austin's arms with bottles, cat formula, blankets, a little bed, toys, brushes, and treats. "You do not need that," he says when I pick up a cute little pink puffer jacket. "I know, but I want it," I say as I balance it on top of my pile in his arms. "What about this? She will need a collar," the shop assistant says holding up a sparkly bedazzled collar. "Oh! These look like real diamonds! Thank you!" I say taking the collar. "You have helped enough; go," Austin snips from behind Cats' pile of stuff. The shop assistant does not think twice about disappearing.

"Don't tyrant someone who is just trying to help us with our baby."

"Our baby?"

"Yes. You can run from your responsibilities with Stacy, but not from me. So man up and don't be a deadbeat father."

"Baby, seriously now, do you ever think about the shit that comes out of your mouth?"

"No. Not really. Now come on, your first child payment is due, and I am going to milk you for all you got," I say, pushing him toward the checkout. I avoid looking at the cash register when it hits triple digits. "We have outlets all over the country, would you like to sign up for our loyalty card? You get great savings," the shop assistant says when Austin swipes his card. "No, thank you. I like to pay full price," I say in an attempt to pacify Austin I don't know why that would pacify him. Don't rich people like to flaunt their money? He can flaunt it if he likes, I'll watch. "Well, I don't," Austin says, holding out his hand for the loyalty card application. "If this is only the first shopping trip for that rat, and is suspect it is, I will need to save money where I can," he adds. Then, he picks up the three shopping bags while I take Cat's cute new bed; she is going to love this bed because it's so fluffy.

"Give me a second; wait here," he says as we pass a small clothing store. It's looks like one of those expensive places that carry designer shit. I never go into places like that with my broke ass. I need to start committing to work more, I will when I get back. I wait ten minutes and then he walks out with a Hermès bag. "They sell shit like that in there? What did you buy? Show me," I demand. Austin chuckles and shakes his head. "It's nothing that concerns you, walk please," he says. Annoyed and curious, I turn on my heel and walk; I will rip that bag up later and have a look.