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hipstamirror

friday : cat scratch fever

Last night I was walking from Wallingford to Fremont and tried to pick up a cat that walked up to me. But apparently it was all a tease and my hand ended up with some pretty ugly-looking scratches on it.

I was in the neighborhood with some friends. The evening started after cutting out of work early to go to Wonderbar, where the decorators have fully embraced 2006 as the Year of the Chandelier. They've upped the ante by including some lampshades to cover the awkward ceiling to lightbulb gap, giving the over-mirrored space the look of a lounge under attack from stylized jellyfish.

Other than a few other quirks (being asked whether I wanted my edamame on the rocks), it was nice enough. We left to have dinner at Beso del Sol, inhaling several baskets of chips while waiting for other people to arrive. And then later, after eating some of us made the westward hike, crossing the aurora skybridge and encountering the previously-mentioned death kitty, and an in-the-middle of huhville art gallery that was still open and displaying very colorful paintings about insects.

This was on our way to the Buckaroo. Although I never visited the bar in the pre-901 days, the absence of an excessively smoky interior (previously one of its key charms, I'm told), did not completely destroy its strange atmosphere. A substantial fraction of those in attendance were wearing badges to identify themselves as Spud Donors, smokers stood feet away from the door, and some odd guy chased us away from his abandoned bar stool. Apparently, the coaster on top of the near empty glass is a signifier that one has merely stepped outside to consume some narcotics and intends to return to claim the spot.

Comments

I say: Don't try to pick up stray cats. I remember my brother petting a stray cat when he was maybe 11 and I was 6--maybe we were both even younger?--and it scratching him and my parents taking him to the hospital to get a rabies shot. So yeah--stay away from strangers, including cats.
I never pick up stray cats. I don't know what came over me. Possibly a memory of being in that part of town with Tim and Al after brunch one time. Al picked up a cat that crossed our path, holding it up in the air so they could have a better look at each other's faces.

Maybe that led me to associate the outskirts of Wallingford as home to friendly cats? I hope that I don't have rabies! I just used bandaid glue to stick the scratch back together. It's still a little sore, but so far no foaming at the mouth on this side.