I prefer cats to humans, and neither cats nor humans seem to prefer me. However, I recognise the necessity of occasional contact with fellow people, which was what I had on mind when I agreed to meet an old colleague and a new colleague for coffee today. Naturally, I suggested to meet in a cat cafe to balance the inevitable (humans) by the cute (cats).
The new colleague turned out to be perfectly unobjectionable. She lives alone with two cats and a dog and has a boyfriend. As long as she has cats, I forgive the dog and the boyfriend. She is smart and pretty enough, but neither smarter or prettier than either me or my old colleague. Sadly, she’s thinner than either of us, which I mildly disapprove (that is, am envious) of.
When the new girl left to walk her boyfriend and attend to her dog (maybe the other way round), the two of us old girls proceeded to assess her. We were eager to weave some gossip, alas, we ended up agreeing that the new colleague was nice (and I meant it). What a disappointment. We must be getting old and soft, with nothing more interesting to think about other people than that they are nice. The next thing I know I’ll think that I’m a nice person too. Phew.