Wherein I kick someone's ego in the junk
"Uncle Jerry! We're getting a kitty!!"
N's kids are adorable, excitable, and fairly young, but I respect them because they're smart people with good hearts. Therefore, the exuberance shown here became instantly contagious as I like to see people happy. Also, kitties.
"Oh? Wonderful! When?," I ask. That very night, it turns out, they were heading off to the Dumb Friends League to see which cat would let them take him/her home. I gave some advice and ideas on how to choose a cat, they promised to send pics via phone message, and we parted ways. Normally, I don't give out my number as I'm insanely selfish with my down-time, but I deemed this an exception. Because kitties.
I get an image of a mottled black and cinnamon cat some hours later from his daughter. "We get a kitty," the messages says. Ah, text speak. I'll cope.
"Sierra?" I offer, prodding the list of names they've undoubtedly compiled.
"Wat?? No! We call him snuffles for now".
That name won't do. Like, at ALL.
"That is no name for a cat. Durondel, Famfrit, Enkidu, Phirial. THOSE are names for cats. Be creative!" It's blunt, sure, but the kids know I'm often like that.
"what about Gwiddion", she replies.
"Ooh, Gwiddion is an excellent name for a boy cat! Well done!" I'm impressed, really. It's a clever name.
"How about Gwen?"
I stop and look at that message. Something about it irks me.
"That's not a boy's name. Gwen is exclusively female," I reply.
"She is feminine..." Again, I'm irked. I reply "I thought it was a boy."
"No. She is a one year old spayed female. What about Gwen?"
Ah. I finally saw what happened here. Notice that the text speak has been abandoned for full sentences? Notice that the ellipses is used to suggest there's more than being said? Notice the proper spelling? I wasn't speaking to the daughter anymore. Her mom took the phone.
Her mom is a self-absorbed, petty sociopath. "Gwen" was her nickname in high school and college. She's either seriously suggesting naming this cat after her 20 year old HS persona (tacky), or she's less than subtly letting me know that she's being all stalky with me again (tacky cubed). Whatever the case, I was ending this.
"Ah. Hm. It's too common. You can do better." Yes, I can be a subtle asshole as well, sweetie.
The next response arrives as "wat did u dso?"
I think that cleared up any doubts as to what just happened, but also the following lack of communication that settled between us confirmed my suspicion and, indeed, that my little jab pierced the mother's ego and sent her spiraling into a fit. (No, seriously. She really does that.)
I still don't know what the name of the cat is, though.
N's kids are adorable, excitable, and fairly young, but I respect them because they're smart people with good hearts. Therefore, the exuberance shown here became instantly contagious as I like to see people happy. Also, kitties.
"Oh? Wonderful! When?," I ask. That very night, it turns out, they were heading off to the Dumb Friends League to see which cat would let them take him/her home. I gave some advice and ideas on how to choose a cat, they promised to send pics via phone message, and we parted ways. Normally, I don't give out my number as I'm insanely selfish with my down-time, but I deemed this an exception. Because kitties.
I get an image of a mottled black and cinnamon cat some hours later from his daughter. "We get a kitty," the messages says. Ah, text speak. I'll cope.
"Sierra?" I offer, prodding the list of names they've undoubtedly compiled.
"Wat?? No! We call him snuffles for now".
That name won't do. Like, at ALL.
"That is no name for a cat. Durondel, Famfrit, Enkidu, Phirial. THOSE are names for cats. Be creative!" It's blunt, sure, but the kids know I'm often like that.
"what about Gwiddion", she replies.
"Ooh, Gwiddion is an excellent name for a boy cat! Well done!" I'm impressed, really. It's a clever name.
"How about Gwen?"
I stop and look at that message. Something about it irks me.
"That's not a boy's name. Gwen is exclusively female," I reply.
"She is feminine..." Again, I'm irked. I reply "I thought it was a boy."
"No. She is a one year old spayed female. What about Gwen?"
Ah. I finally saw what happened here. Notice that the text speak has been abandoned for full sentences? Notice that the ellipses is used to suggest there's more than being said? Notice the proper spelling? I wasn't speaking to the daughter anymore. Her mom took the phone.
Her mom is a self-absorbed, petty sociopath. "Gwen" was her nickname in high school and college. She's either seriously suggesting naming this cat after her 20 year old HS persona (tacky), or she's less than subtly letting me know that she's being all stalky with me again (tacky cubed). Whatever the case, I was ending this.
"Ah. Hm. It's too common. You can do better." Yes, I can be a subtle asshole as well, sweetie.
The next response arrives as "wat did u dso?"
I think that cleared up any doubts as to what just happened, but also the following lack of communication that settled between us confirmed my suspicion and, indeed, that my little jab pierced the mother's ego and sent her spiraling into a fit. (No, seriously. She really does that.)
I still don't know what the name of the cat is, though.