A Cat Walks Into a Bar...

An ode to Sass

Almost the Whole Kitten Kaboodle

I went out with some friends the other night. We went to one bar first, one whose patrons spilled onto the sidewalk in all directions, packed concrete with just enough pockets of air for cigarette smoke to disperse through the crowd. When we had had enough of this indoor crush in an outdoor area, we headed to another bar nearby.

It was at this bar that we first saw the cat.

We didn’t know the cat’s name at the time; we just saw a cute orange cat, something along the lines of an American shorthair orange tabby. This cat was not a bar cat, whose home was where we now found it, as some cats are bookstore cats. It also was not a stray, like the one I saw later that evening as it raced across a quiet street into the darkness.

This cat was draped on a man’s shoulders, a sort of living scarf. The cat was incredibly well-behaved, more well-behaved than many of the bar’s patrons. There was no look of concern on its fur-rowed brow, not a single mewl forming on its muzzle. It sat on the man’s clavicle, looking out regally, sphinx-like, all that the light touches truly his.

And, as one might expect, this cat at the bar was getting some attention. As was its owner, considering the cat was on him, and, to reiterate, we were at a bar.

Thus, one of my friends decided to go over to say hello to the cat. You know, as a cat owner might expect people to do when they bring their cat to a bar. Apparently, this is not what one does when this particular man brings his cat to a bar.

My friend, a kind, lovely, fun, human being, politely and cheerfully asked about the cat: the cat this man had knowingly brought to a bar, a place cats are not often found, and would surely be noted. In turn, the man gave my friend nothing. In fact, he actively ignored her, truly ignored her as though she didn’t exist, something I hadn’t seen so properly executed since I had received the silent treatment in fourth grade.

When he finally gave in and acknowledged her presence with as much joy as a child finding a severed foot in their Christmas stocking, his petty, terse responses were enough for my friend to decide she had had enough. But, not before she could take a photo of the cat, as both a cute keepsake of the furry animal who had not wronged her and a permanent reminder of this odd experience with the man who had.

She respectfully asked if she could take a photo of the cat, while so many others might have just pulled their cameras up and snapped a picture.¹ The man dismissed her request out of hand, without so much as a smile at her respectful asking, nor a “please,” or “thank you.” He instead acted as though this was an insane thing to ask.

“You brought a cat to a bar,” I wanted to say.

As I walked away with my pal, who was dejected not by the lack of a photo but instead by the lack of decorum, she revealed to me that the man had told her one key piece of info: the cat was named Sassy. It was clear to me that he called his cat Sassy for a reason, the same reason I might name a cat Anxiety: as a true reflection of its owner.

Later, we made friends with a very cool woman who heard our tale of kitty curtness, of pussycat impertinence. It intrigued her, and she approached the man herself to see how he would react. He was, in turn, an asshole to her, as he had been to my friend. But then he took a liking to her and tried to turn on the charm, both his and Sassy’s.

It was too late for him. Our new ally came back to us, informing us and reaffirming our experience. The man was just so, so grumpy. Maybe he needed a catnap.

All to say: When you bring a cat to a bar, I think it’s only appropriate to treat people’s attention to it with respect. After all, people will notice. They will have questions. They will ask for pictures. And if you’re going to be disagreeable about it, maybe leave your cat at home. Or stay home yourself. There’s no need to be Sassy at a bar.

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The Cat-ch-all²

To close, I’ve come up with 9 ‘Cat walks into a bar’ jokes (one for each life) for your enjoyment. I will not be rude about sharing them, like some Sassy people might:

1. A cat walks into a bar and gets truly, absolutely sloshed. It can hardly stand on all fours. On the way home, it stumbles, trips, and, inevitably, as a drunk cat does, falls. But, I’ll be damned, it still lands on its feet.

2. A cat walks into a sauna. Suddenly, it’s in heat.

3. A catwalk into a bar. They truly are innovating at this year’s Fashion Week.

4. A cat walks into a bar and throws some sand on the ground. “Hey, pick that up!” says the bartender. “We don’t stand for kitty litter here!”

5. A cat walks into a bar and orders a club soda, but they give the catatonic.

6. A cat walks into a bar and starts hustling billiards. Beware the kitty pool.

7. A young cat walks into a bar and makes a crass joke. No one laughs. “Come on, I’m just kitten,” it says.

8. A cat walks into a bar and is enjoying a glass of milk when a Mars Rover, returning from its mission, crashes into the atmosphere. It smashes through the roof in a fiery blaze, dropping into the bar, and the cat is, sadly, killed. The rover’s name? You guessed it. Curiosity.³

9. A so-called pussy walks into a bar. “Hey, David,” shouts my high school bully.

1. In fact, we saw a few people do just that later on. Sometimes rudeness is the only response to rudeness, I suppose.

2. I got so, so tired right before I started writing this section, so please bear(cat) with me.

3. No cats were harmed in the making of this joke.