Michael Donovan - The Scare-Dee-Cats

 

 

All right. I was a firefighter in New York City for— [audience applause] 

 

Thank you. And like many firefighters, most of us, we all had second jobs. And my second job was I was a carpenter. I worked as a carpenter. And a couple of the other guys in my firehouse, they were also carpenters. And so, we would all get jobs. If they needed help, they would call me. And my friend Kirk called me, and he goes, “Mike, I got a great job for us. We're going to be doing hardwood floors on the upper east side of Manhattan in my friend Brent's building.” 

 

Brent was a pharmacist. You know, when you think of a pharmacist, you think of a gray hair with the glasses, looking over the top of his glasses. Brent had a ponytail. He had tattoos. He had a wife, Shannon, who liked to go to the strip clubs and bring back another story for another night. [audience laughter] But anyway, Brent was a little different from your normal pharmacist. He owned the building that his pharmacy was in. Pharmacy was on the first floor, apartments on the second floor and Brent had the entire third floor. Small building, but he had the whole third floor. 

 

So, we called Brent and we were discussing the job. He was explaining the apartment to us. The apartment was one big open area. Kitchen in the back. Dining room, next to it, living room. And then, in the front was his bedroom. The bedroom had glass French doors, and that's where his bedroom was. We discussed price and what we were going to do. And Brent said to us, he goes, “There's one little problem.” And we said, “Well, what's the problem?” He goes, “I have a cat.” I was like, “I like cats. Kirk likes cats. It should be fine.” “No, you don't understand. I have a wild jungle cat as a pet.” [audience laughter] 

 

 And we were like, “You have a tiger in your apartment on the upper east side of Manhattan?” He's like, “No. No, no, not like a tiger. It's more like a cheetah or a jaguar.” [audience laughter] We’re like, “It's called a serval.” We had never heard of a serval. He assured us, he goes, “When my wife Shannon is home, the cat is like a domesticated kitty cat. But when she's not home, the shit's on anything. [audience laughter] But you really don't need to worry, because Brent likes to watch TV late and then he sleeps late, so you're probably not going to see him. We'll keep him in the bedroom,” which he called the cat's lair. And the cat's name was Slash. 

 

So, he'd say, “The cat will be in-- Slash, he'll be in his lair, and he'll pace back and forth. He doesn't get up until about 11:00 or 11:30, so you're probably not going to see him.” A; So, “All right.” We're just there to do the floors. [audience laughter] So, the first day comes. We have to bring all our tools up to the third floor. So, we block open the door to Second Avenue. It was right on Second Avenue, the apartment. We block open the door. We block open the door to the apartment and we're carrying the tools up, we're bringing them in and we start working. We’re working on the floor. And sure enough, about 11:00, Kirk gives me a little “Mike, Mike, look.” 

 

Oh, one other thing I forgot to tell you is Brent warned us. He said, “Whatever you do with the cat--" And the cat did look like a cheetah, you know, with the spots, but the head was small. It was called a serval. He goes, “The one thing you have to make sure you don't do, don't make eye contact with the cat.” [audience laughter] So, we're working on the floor, and Kirk gives me a little elbow. He goes, “Mike. Mike, what's that?” And the two of us look up, and there behind the glass doors is the cat, pacing back and forth. We look. And the cat kind of looks at us, and we both divert our eyes [audience laughter] and we keep working. 

 

After a while, it became routine. The cat would pace. We were working. We would look at him. We would divert our eyes. So, day one went by, day two went by, now the third day was going to be. We were going to finish the job, get paid, and go home. We chalked the doors open to Second Avenue, we chalked the door open to the apartment and we're bringing our tools up. As we're walking through, Kirk says to me, he taps me again, and he goes, “Mike, what's that on the back window sill in the living room area?” 

 

Brent, his wife Shannon, had great taste. They had these beautiful white, lacy sheer curtains and brown stone windows with the low sills. We could see a silhouette behind the curtains. And with the tools, we leaned forward. Just as we leaned forward far enough, a gentle breeze blew the curtains. [audience laughter] And there was Slash and we made eye contact with the magnificent. And the cat freaked out. Two leaps, and Kirk and I were pinned to the wall. [audience laughter] The cat leaped halfway across the apartment, hit the couch and bounced. And now, it was at the French doors, trying to get into its lair. It kept throwing itself into the glass and hissing and spitting at us. 

 

We're pinned to the wall. [audience laughter] And Kirk leans over to me and we're thinking, “This is a $7,000 cat. It's going to cut itself. It's going to kill itself.” Or, worse than that, the door to Second Avenue is open. There's going to be a wild jungle cat running down Second Avenue. We're not going to get paid. [audience laughter] So, Kirk leans over to me. Kirk leans over and he says, “Mike, one of us is going to have to open that door and let the cat in its lair.” And being a fireman, you have to keep your wits about you, you have to stay calm in situations. So, I leaned over to Kirk, and as calmly as I could, I said, “Well, it ain't going to be me.” [audience laughter] 

 

And Kirk looked at me with disgust, and he opened the door and the cat went in. We closed the door, we looked at each other and we were like, “We're out of here.” We picked up the tools and went down. We told, “Brent, you're paying us for the day. The cat's in his room. Thank you very much.” And the moral of the story, we went to a bar, we drank for the rest of the day. [audience laughter] The moral of the story, is that a cat on the sill is worth a beer in a bar.