PussyGirl had always been a feline of pulchritude, and this episode was to prove no exception.
She believed that cleanliness was next to godliness, a product of her convent school education and her general sense of order, personal and otherwise. Her incursion into the world of the Internet dater had so far been in keeping with this philosophy, but after several exchanges with SomewhatHairyChested Man, this kitten realised that sometimes less is really more, and if there is excess hair causing bother, the best thing to do is to remove it ASAP.
The initial exchanges went well; a little chit chat, some minor details exchanged and a promise to chat some more later. It was, in this instance, a case of third time unlucky for PG as SHCMan began to reveal some of the more unsavoury aspects of his personality.
It all began quite well on that spring evening, as he nudged her via the online chat facility. PG responded immediately and asked him what he would like to know this evening. He reminded her that he had requested a rendezvous, taken her mobile number and subsequently sent her several text messages to which she had not replied. He was not in the least bit amused he felt obliged to inform her.
PussyGirl was puzzled - logically, she checked the number with him - and true to form, he had noted it down wrong.
"Such a shame, sorry you were texting the wrong person; you should have just sent me an email, you have my address and I could have checked whether or not you had the correct number"
"Alright, alright. DON'T you tell me what I should have done! God knows how much money I have wasted on texting you."
"Well, no matter, we are chatting now and that is the main thing."
"No, not really. I feel like a right idiot. Texting you and you did not reply. And now we cannot meet because it is too late and I s'pose you have other plans."
PussyGirl felt her perfumed whiskers bristle. He really was labouring the point.
"Well, no you weren't texting me, you were texting somebody else, so that kind of negates the chances of organising anything."
"Listen, I told you, don't tell me what I should and shouldnt of done (sic). I told you I was trying to contact you and all you can do is tell me what I should of done. Spose your busy then today."
Cautious kitten could feel that he was agitated, and while she wished not to make things worse, she was annoyed by his tone and his poor grammar.
"Yes, I am actually. Off for lunch with a friend."
"A man, I spose. Where are you going?"
PussyGirl decided not to give him any information, rather she would distract him and change the subject entirely.
"Well, it might be, but anyway, I am much more interested in you; tell me something about yourself again. I would like to know."
"I have told you everything you need to know, and I am not sending you another picture because when I do, women tell me I look too criminal for them"
"Ahhhh. That is an interesting reaction, but I can tell you, I don't put much store by looks (she lied) and I wasn't going to ask you for a photo. It would just be nice to know a little more about you."
"Oh, no", he replied "you tell me about you. What do you do?"
This was getting silly, and he was getting angrier and angrier she sensed. It wasn't her fault he couldn't see past the entangled mass of body hair on his chest to write down an eleven digit telephone number.
However, in her usual patient slinky cat mode, she persisted and gave him a brief synopsis of her job description, alluding to her management role in education.
"Yeah, right. I am sure you do that. NOT!!!!!"
"Sorry????"
"I bet you are lying. That seems like a bit of a high powered job to me."
"And your point is?"
"I don't think you could do it."
"What you mean is, you know you couldn't so you don't think anybody else could."
"Listen, I wouldn't want some job like that. Hate being in offices me. Too depressing."
"Who says I work in an office?"
"Don't you?"
"No, not always."
"But you use a computer?"
PussyGirl was beginning to think that this guy was really troubled and that perhaps women were not his favourite people.
Having diverted the conversation once again, he proceeded to tell her exactly what he liked in a woman.
"Big breasts, long legs, blonde if possible, but I don't mind dark hair, not too fat, not too thin and any colour eyes....."
"That does seem a bit prescriptive," she informed him.
"What does that mean?"
Oh dear, this was not going well. HairyMan was seeming more and more neandearhtal with every message exchanged.
"How tall are you?"
"How tall would you like me to be?" she giggled to herself as she typed the message.
"Look, you. stop being funny. I know what I like. And let's be honest, you are only looking for a guy on the net, because you cannot find one. You are desperate!"
She steeled herself and went in for the kill. Specimens like this hairy critter really needed to be put in their place and she was more than woman enough for the job.
"OK, enough now. You are just being disresepctful. Clearly I am neither desperate nor unattractive, though sadly, you will never have the opportunity to confirm that as I can tell you that given your last outburst, I have absolutley no desire to see you."
"Furthermore, let me tell you that the other guys I have met so far have all been very complimentary about my appearance and demeanour, so clearly this is something that only you have a problem with. Tell me something, do educated, smart women scare you?"
"What? No. don't be stupid. So you have met other guys have you? I knew it. Knew you were the type who puts it about. Probably gossip to your girlfriends about how they are in bed."
This was, quite literally, incredible; but PG was not easily distracted from her task. Vaporisaiton was the only answer. But not quite yet.
"Actually, I am a lady, so of course, I could never reveal any intimate details. You, on the other hand are no gent - unlike my previous suitors, all of whom are happy to be described in the draft novel I am writing......"
"Let me get this straight. You are writing a book about the men you have met on the internet? What am I some sort of guine pig? Lol."
That last lol was a nervous one, her feline intuition told her.
"Have they seen this book? "
"Oh yes, I have shared it with them and they are all delighted at how they have been described so far."
"You, PussyGirl, are sick. I want no part of this. Do me a favour. DONT EVER CONTACT ME AGAIN YOU WIRDO."
PussyGirl thought and thought. Her claws were slightly extended and obstructing the keys as she typed.
"I was rather hoping you would say that HairyBoy. One tip. Be nice. Actually, no, two. Use spellcheck - it impressese the ladies much more and gives us some chance of understanding your tangled prose."
And with that, PussyGirl closed the chat screen and rid herself of a whole load of unwanted unsightly hair.
She believed that cleanliness was next to godliness, a product of her convent school education and her general sense of order, personal and otherwise. Her incursion into the world of the Internet dater had so far been in keeping with this philosophy, but after several exchanges with SomewhatHairyChested Man, this kitten realised that sometimes less is really more, and if there is excess hair causing bother, the best thing to do is to remove it ASAP.
The initial exchanges went well; a little chit chat, some minor details exchanged and a promise to chat some more later. It was, in this instance, a case of third time unlucky for PG as SHCMan began to reveal some of the more unsavoury aspects of his personality.
It all began quite well on that spring evening, as he nudged her via the online chat facility. PG responded immediately and asked him what he would like to know this evening. He reminded her that he had requested a rendezvous, taken her mobile number and subsequently sent her several text messages to which she had not replied. He was not in the least bit amused he felt obliged to inform her.
PussyGirl was puzzled - logically, she checked the number with him - and true to form, he had noted it down wrong.
"Such a shame, sorry you were texting the wrong person; you should have just sent me an email, you have my address and I could have checked whether or not you had the correct number"
"Alright, alright. DON'T you tell me what I should have done! God knows how much money I have wasted on texting you."
"Well, no matter, we are chatting now and that is the main thing."
"No, not really. I feel like a right idiot. Texting you and you did not reply. And now we cannot meet because it is too late and I s'pose you have other plans."
PussyGirl felt her perfumed whiskers bristle. He really was labouring the point.
"Well, no you weren't texting me, you were texting somebody else, so that kind of negates the chances of organising anything."
"Listen, I told you, don't tell me what I should and shouldnt of done (sic). I told you I was trying to contact you and all you can do is tell me what I should of done. Spose your busy then today."
Cautious kitten could feel that he was agitated, and while she wished not to make things worse, she was annoyed by his tone and his poor grammar.
"Yes, I am actually. Off for lunch with a friend."
"A man, I spose. Where are you going?"
PussyGirl decided not to give him any information, rather she would distract him and change the subject entirely.
"Well, it might be, but anyway, I am much more interested in you; tell me something about yourself again. I would like to know."
"I have told you everything you need to know, and I am not sending you another picture because when I do, women tell me I look too criminal for them"
"Ahhhh. That is an interesting reaction, but I can tell you, I don't put much store by looks (she lied) and I wasn't going to ask you for a photo. It would just be nice to know a little more about you."
"Oh, no", he replied "you tell me about you. What do you do?"
This was getting silly, and he was getting angrier and angrier she sensed. It wasn't her fault he couldn't see past the entangled mass of body hair on his chest to write down an eleven digit telephone number.
However, in her usual patient slinky cat mode, she persisted and gave him a brief synopsis of her job description, alluding to her management role in education.
"Yeah, right. I am sure you do that. NOT!!!!!"
"Sorry????"
"I bet you are lying. That seems like a bit of a high powered job to me."
"And your point is?"
"I don't think you could do it."
"What you mean is, you know you couldn't so you don't think anybody else could."
"Listen, I wouldn't want some job like that. Hate being in offices me. Too depressing."
"Who says I work in an office?"
"Don't you?"
"No, not always."
"But you use a computer?"
PussyGirl was beginning to think that this guy was really troubled and that perhaps women were not his favourite people.
Having diverted the conversation once again, he proceeded to tell her exactly what he liked in a woman.
"Big breasts, long legs, blonde if possible, but I don't mind dark hair, not too fat, not too thin and any colour eyes....."
"That does seem a bit prescriptive," she informed him.
"What does that mean?"
Oh dear, this was not going well. HairyMan was seeming more and more neandearhtal with every message exchanged.
"How tall are you?"
"How tall would you like me to be?" she giggled to herself as she typed the message.
"Look, you. stop being funny. I know what I like. And let's be honest, you are only looking for a guy on the net, because you cannot find one. You are desperate!"
She steeled herself and went in for the kill. Specimens like this hairy critter really needed to be put in their place and she was more than woman enough for the job.
"OK, enough now. You are just being disresepctful. Clearly I am neither desperate nor unattractive, though sadly, you will never have the opportunity to confirm that as I can tell you that given your last outburst, I have absolutley no desire to see you."
"Furthermore, let me tell you that the other guys I have met so far have all been very complimentary about my appearance and demeanour, so clearly this is something that only you have a problem with. Tell me something, do educated, smart women scare you?"
"What? No. don't be stupid. So you have met other guys have you? I knew it. Knew you were the type who puts it about. Probably gossip to your girlfriends about how they are in bed."
This was, quite literally, incredible; but PG was not easily distracted from her task. Vaporisaiton was the only answer. But not quite yet.
"Actually, I am a lady, so of course, I could never reveal any intimate details. You, on the other hand are no gent - unlike my previous suitors, all of whom are happy to be described in the draft novel I am writing......"
"Let me get this straight. You are writing a book about the men you have met on the internet? What am I some sort of guine pig? Lol."
That last lol was a nervous one, her feline intuition told her.
"Have they seen this book? "
"Oh yes, I have shared it with them and they are all delighted at how they have been described so far."
"You, PussyGirl, are sick. I want no part of this. Do me a favour. DONT EVER CONTACT ME AGAIN YOU WIRDO."
PussyGirl thought and thought. Her claws were slightly extended and obstructing the keys as she typed.
"I was rather hoping you would say that HairyBoy. One tip. Be nice. Actually, no, two. Use spellcheck - it impressese the ladies much more and gives us some chance of understanding your tangled prose."
And with that, PussyGirl closed the chat screen and rid herself of a whole load of unwanted unsightly hair.
