Chapter Twelve

Friday night is always the busiest night in the bar.  Barcat muses over the term "First date night" and chuckles.  Cats don't date.  They meet in a back alley, hiss a little, purr a little, then get it on.  And yea, if you do it right, she screams. Barcat smiled.  Nature's way, so the humans call it.
 

As Barcat wandered about the bar, a young man was sitting at a table, alone.  Very unusual for a Friday night.  He seemed to be waiting for someone.  Barcat rubbed up against his leg.  The man was eating one of cook's burgers.  The man broke off a piece of the juicy red meat and offered it, under the table, so no one would see.  He seemed to think it was not OK to feed the cat, but how would he know.  Barcat sat there chewing the meat, savoring the bloody taste and light seasoning.  What surprised Barcat was the man offered him more.  Barcat checked the plate from a distance, he had not touched his food.  Barcat wondered why.  The man drank his drink sparingly, but the food sat getting cold on his plate.

Barcat came by a little later, the man was still sitting.  His meal was cold, and he watched the door, and the TV, still waiting.  He saw Barcat, and broke off a big chunk and gave it to the cat.  Barcat took the piece and wandered out of the aisle and under the table.

The man's phone rang.  There was polite conversation, but the man sounded very disappointed.  Whoever he was going to have dinner with was not going to arrive.  The man ordered a drink.  Barcat went back to his seat at the bar.

A little while later a nice young lady Barcat has met before came in.  She sat at the bar, ordered two shots and a beer.  One shot went to Barcat.  As he took some licks, she scratched him on the head.  "Another Friday night, and I am sitting in a bar alone. again."  She sighed. 

Barcat knew her story.  Looking for a companion.  Humans are strange.  What is wrong with the alley.  Heck, some of them go out there for a "quickie," as they call it, on occasions.  Barcat has seen them out there, on hot nights when the side windows are opened to cool down the bar.  Barcat figured she was just a fussy kitty who was particular about who she mates with.  Barcat has run into cats that are the same way.

As they sat, she sighed a few times as she watched the TV.  He noticed the male of the species was the cause of all the sighing.  During a "commercial" she looked at Barcat.  "Ya know, I would settle for a quiet chat with someone new at this point.  It doesn't have to be serious, but some nice guy who just wants some company."

Barcat smiled.  He looked over at the table.  Yes, the young man was still there.  Watching TV and having a beer. 

Barcat noticed the earphones that were dangling on her shoulders.  They had been hooked to her phone, but she had taken the ear pieces out and just let them hang around her neck and had tucked the phone away.  He quickly grabbed at the earpiece, snagged it and in a flash, jumped down off the counter, cord in mouth and ran to the back of the bar and under a table.  The young lady yelled "hey" and chased after him.  She saw him stop at a table and as he "tried" to get away, she bent down to grab him and stood up.

The young man was laughing.  A lovely young lady was standing there holding the cat in both hands, at arm's length, and the cat had a headset dangling out of his mouth.  The young man stood up, still laughing, and removed the headset. 

"Is this yours?" He was still laughing. 

The young lady started laughing as well.  She pulled the cat into her arms.  "You naughty Barcat," she playfully scolded him, "That's not a string."  She scratched him on the head, and gently placed him down on the floor.  He pranced away, tail up in the air.

"Yes, they are mine.  Thanks for the help," she said.  She too them and started to turn and go.

The young man spoke up.  "I noticed you sitting at the bar with the cat.  Do you always buy him drinks?"

"I come in here every so often on a Friday night.  I've seen the bartender give the cat shots, so I figured it was OK.  Yes, I will buy him a shot.  He really is good company, you know."

Now the young man started laughing.  " And I was feeding him from my burger earlier. A cat as company.  Well, we could do worse." 

The young woman smiled.  "Is that seat taken?  I think you would offer better company right now than the cat.  At least you laugh."

The young man stopped laughing, seemed to think it over for a few seconds, smiled and replied, "That seat is available, if you would like to join me."

She smiled, went to the bar, got her drink, and went back to the table to sit with the young man.

Barcat when back to his perch on the bar.  A little while later, a ball of raw burger meat and a shot of whiskey arrived in front of the cat.  Pete laughed, and pointed to the table where the two young people had been chatting for the past hour.

"Compliments of the couple at that table over there, you lucky cat." 

Barcat looked over in the direction that Pete was pointing, and smiled.  Sometimes there are good nights at the bar.