I want to open a bar and name it Feral, because I think it should give folks an idea of what kind of crowd I'd have in there. Nobody would be purposely mean, but I bet there would be that one guy who kind of picks on people just to start fights when he's had too much to drink.
It would be a success simply because all single word establishments are successful, or so TV wants me to think. The barmaids, named Kat or Tabby, would wear whiskers and file their nails into a point so they could scratch people who tipped poorly. We would only play music by the Pussycat Dolls. Wait, I mean we would NEVER play music by the Pussycat Dolls. Instead, we'd have on music by great cats like Ray Charles, Mike Ness, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, and Johnny Cash. I'd make bar stools from cat perches. Parties of 5 or more would be referred to as colonies. With the exception of Ravens and Orioles games, no TV would be allowed, just a running loop of cats available for adoption, those who need help, and those who have been adopted. Anyone who adopts gets on the VIP list.
This is probably a good indication that I'm becoming the cat lady and need to get the hell out of the house for a while. Or, it's brilliant and someone is going to steal my idea. Fuckers.
No comments:
Post a Comment