[m i a o w] the cat

The phone conversation went like this:
“Hello M, I just wanted to…”
“Hello, B. What do you want? I’m sorry, I’m just in in a big rush…”
I begin to dither under pressure.
“I wanted to know if you still want to see the Go-Betweens at the Palais, because, um, it’s on tomorrow night and…”
“Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night? What…oh, god, look, I really have to…I want to go. Can you book it?”
“I can’t book it, that’s why I had to call you, because when I was on the phone to you earlier and I was using the bank machine, and I was in a dither…”
“Yes yes yes….”
“I lost my card, someone found it and cut it up and now there’s a stop on my account and…”
“Yep. Yep, yep.”
“But it’s $62 for dinner and show!”
“God. Look. I have to go. I’ll do it. Just email me. Yep? Bye.”

Ten minutes later he calls back.

“Sorry about before. My last lot of resin was just starting to go off, and I had to use it and I could hear my mobile, but I couldn’t find it, and then I had to run down the hall because I could hear it in the bedroom and then it stopped ringing and I hate that f!@king hallway carpet because I just tracked dust all down it, and it’s totally f!@king pointless and there isn’t even a mat to wipe your feet on at the back door and so now it needs vaccuming and then I found the phone…”

[At this point, I should have just put on a foreign accent and gone “‘Allo? ‘Allo? I zink queue muzt haf ze wrong noombear’” And that would have sorted that. But instead, I had to say all of the following - or think it - which is almost as bad.]

“The carpet is only stupid if you’ve been sanding fibreglass outside the back door, and we should have bought a doormat by now. [Evil Thought:~ ‘You should have bought a doormat by now if you’re going to be working out the back. And there’s no rule that says you have to answer your phone - or if you do have to answer it, leave it nearby .’ /End of Evil Thought] And your phone is too small - it just hides itself away…”
“So I think dinner and show is too expensive. Why don’t we just go to the show?”
“OK, but, like I said, you have to book it.”
He sighs. “OK.”
“No, you have to book it. Because…[I suddenly realise he didn’t listen at all to my explanation in the previous call] because when I was getting money out of the machine, I was talking to you on my phone, and I must of dropped my card, and whoever found it was nice enough to call the bank, but they also chopped my card into little pieces. Then the bank rang me. They have put a stop on my account - for who can tell whether the chopper actually did chop, or whether it was all a dastardly complex trick - and so I can’t do any booking. Nada. None.” I pause for breath.
“Wow. OK. I’ll book it. But no dinner. We’ll go down tomorrow and take Oomoo on the lake. It’ll be fun.”
“Right.”
“OK.”
“Fine.”
“I’ll see you tonight.”