Conversation at the thrift store:
me: Dude. I think I might need that stuffed bobcat.
Victor: Just keep walking.
me: Look at his paw. It’s like he’s saying, “YOU GUYS? TAKE IT DOWN A NOTCH, OK? JUST SIMMER DOWN.”
me: We could carry him around in the trunk and you could pull him out to use as your supportive buddy to help you convince me not to do something stupid.
Victor: I’m fairly certain that buying that bobcat would send the wrong message.
Clerk: I can give you a huge discount on it if you want him. He’s falling apart.
me: I just don’t know. It sort of looks like he wants me to calm down, but it also sort of looks like he’s leaning on an invisible bar. Like a really shitty mime.
Victor: Do whatever you want. It’s not that bad.
me: That’s sort of the problem. It’s not bad enough.
Clerk: I’m confused.
Victor: Welcome to my world, sir.
Ps. I did not buy the bobcat, but I took a picture of him and then later I thought, “OH MY GOD. I could put a trucker’s hat on him and call him ‘Little Smokey’ and have him lean out of the car window like ‘Hey there, big mama. What’s your 10-4?‘ and no one would ever bother me at red lights because who is going to fuck with a girl being defended by her pet bobcat? No one, that’s who. But when I went back to the store, the bobcat was sold and I was a little upset, but Victor was all, “Calm down.” And I was like, “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT LITTLE SMOKEY WOULD HAVE SAID IF HE WAS HERE.”
And that’s when I learned that the time to buy a used, almost free bobcat is when you see one. Let that be a lesson to you.