Chapter Ten

The day has been like any other day in the bar. People come in, people go out. This is pretty much how a cat sees traffic in a bar or anywhere else. Other than Missy, the owner who lets him stay in the bar and gives him great scratchies, the only other person who matters to BarCat is Pete, the bartender who pours his drinks. Well, the waitress is pleasant to him sometimes, and she gives damn good scratchies. Everyone else comes and goes, and the only thing that BarCat ever remembers is a face that belongs to someone who has given him a drink or food.

Travis was one of the exceptions. BarCat remembers those who mistreat him. Sometimes, he remembers who mistreats Pete, too. Pete had thrown Travis out on several occasions, but where else could a boy from Texas get a drink at midnight when he was already too drunk to make it out of his apartment and stumbled down the stairs and into the bar. See, Travis lives above the store next door. And BarCat knew the guy was a shapechanger. And no, he is not one of those sharp wolf guys. Nope. Travis is a dog. Really, he shifted into a hound dog. A long-eared, tail-waggin, big wet, sniffy nose hound. Utterly useless in the city. Travis also couldn't get a girl to date him on a dare. He was the kind of guy who looked for dates at family weddings and funerals. Some people would call him an INCEL, as it is doubtful he has ever been with a woman.

Travis was trashed again. BarCat looked around for Pete, but he was in the kitchen with Cook, and they were putting together an order for a table of eight hungry people with lots of beer. Pete had put a couple of pitchers and glasses on the counter for the waitress. Travis swiped a pitcher and a glass. BarCat had almost clawed him with his finger razors, but his last drink had messed up his aim, and he swiped air. Travis laughed at BarCat and stuck out his tongue at him as he pushed his way into a booth where two young ladies were seated. He then proceeded to fill their glasses and his and started hitting up on the girls.

BarCat can get pissy. As any cat can get pissy. But we know BarCat can do more than just hiss at someone. Right now, BarCat was more than pissy. And he was pretty drunk. Not that he couldn't get more drunk. It's just that he was pretty darn drunk and thinking like a cat.

The waitress returned to the bar and pulled another pitcher for the big party. BarCat tried to indicate Travis sitting at the booth, but the waitress thought he was sticking his paw out at her for a pet. She scratched his head and promised him a good scratching as soon as these customers were settled in eating. While the offer made BarCat's eyes light up, sometimes she can be pretty dumb.

Tavis was now groping one of the young ladies. She smacked him and crawled over him to get out of the booth. All Travis did was say how much he liked the feisty ones and why didn't she just sit on his lap rather than crawl away. He kept saying, "You don't know how much you would like it, sweetheart." The girl went to see Pete at that point.

Travis figured it wouldn't be long till he was thrown out of the bar again, so he started guzzling down the beer. "All I want to do is get my damn rocks off, bitches." And he saw Pete coming. He tried to get up, but Pete grabbed him, and Cook helped. The two men dragged him across the floor and up the stairs.

But it was too late for Travis. Yes, BarCat had all he needed. Yes, he would get his rocks off. BarCat settled back into the usual bar noise and waited for someone to offer him a snack. It would go well with another shot glass of beer.

Two days later, Pete was cleaning off the bar when the nice man from the next-door store came in for a beer. The man named Joe owned a small camera shop. BarCat would slip in there once in a while to take care of a mouse problem Joe had, and Joe would always give BarCat a small beer for his kindness. Today was no exception. Joe scratched BarCat on the head, ordered a shot for BarCat, and suggested he come over later for a small snack hiding under one of the counters. BarCat smiled.

They started talking, and Pete mentioned he had to throw Travis out again the other night. Joe started laughing. Almost spit his beer out. He assured Pete it may be a while before Travis gives him any more problems. The police had been called on him, and an ambulance came early yesterday morning and took Travis to the hospital. The lady next door to Travis said she had heard him screaming since 2 AM, and by 6 AM, she had enough. She called the police. When they finally got into the apartment, Travis was doubled over on the floor in pain. The paramedics asked some questions, and one checked the bathroom.

So Pete is looking at Joe, who could hardly stop laughing. When he finally got it all out, Travis had huge kidney stones that decided to pass at 2 AM, and he was bleeding all over the place. Pete looked at Joe and told him that was about an hour after he kicked him out of the bar.

Joe also told Pete that Travis was late with his rent again, by two months this time, so he was talking to his lawyer. Travis may be looking for a new place to live, which suited Pete just fine.