Coffee

I quite enjoy being consulted for my opinion. It gives me a warm feeling inside to wander into people's trivial arguments and shatter misconceptions with an iron mace of knowledge. Rarely do I feel greater than when people turn around with astonished faces at the infinite reaches of my mind. Of course, this doesn't happen much, as I live in a house where six-year olds roam freely with their deep theological and philosophical theories (My favourite came from my sister Sarah, who claimed she couldn't be blamed for losing an argument as she wasn't entirely confident of her own existence, therefore naturally unwilling to put all of her effort into it). Still, it's nice, once in a while...

So it's only natural I don't like  being called "pet". Call me optimistic, but I like to believe during my time on earth I've risen above the various dumb species people take and train and live with to provide small amounts of amusement whenever they're feeling intellectually inferior to their fellow homo-sapiens. A sort of conversational punch bag. I can't help but feel the whole thing's a bit one sided. This makes me paranoid whenever I'm "pet"ed, or god forbid, "darling"ed by old ladies who can't even remember their name or where it is appropriate to urinate. Surely they must be all laughing behind our back, because otherwise the codgers wouldn't have the audacity to "pet" me, Jacob Bradley (In the toilet).

I'm bigger than them. I'm stronger than them. The other day I was walking down the street, and a woman maybe into her sixties came the other direction, crossed the road before she reached me, and crossed back to my side once she'd passed me*. They're scared of me. :D.**

So why should a passing acquaintance merit a "pet", when a lack of such a tenuous bond merits evasion and withering stares from across the street?

I think I've worked it out. They're rats. No, that's not an insult, it's a biological truth. Wrinkly, hairy, bloodshot eyes, secretly experimenting and controlling us while we presume the opposite is true. The similarities are endless. Incredibly intelligent pan-dimensional beings they are, no word of a doubt. They get simple things right that the rest of us fail to grasp. Ever been offered coffee at the end of an evening meal? Probably. As much as when you think about it, the answer should be "Fuck off", quite often you'll go for it. And feel like shit that evening  and the next morning. Old ladies though, have  developed the coffee morning, after which they can spend the rest of the day hyperactively weeding, making jam, running about in their little wheels and doing whatever it  is old ladies do when not at coffee mornings and bitching about how schoolchildren shouldn't be allowed on buses. Despite the massive sign on the front of the bus reading "814 Scholars all welcome". Perhaps they'd rather all 150 schoolchildren from my village getting the bus drove in. Another win in the fight against pollution and congestion. Oh damn, that doesn't make good logical sense. Maybe they aren't rats after all.

*The fact that she was my grandmother made me feel even more guilty about this...

**Just to clarify, the fact that my presence is intimidating and making people's lives worse doesn't make me feel good at all, it makes me feel awful. What makes me feel good is the POWER. Probably shouldn't, but what the hell, I'm afraid the honest truth is it does. Would you rather I lied?