I lived in Connecticut. I had a cat.
The place was big, too big for one, too expensive for one. I’d never lived with women before. There were two I’d met who lived in an apartment across town; too small for two, too far from work. So, they moved in. I don’t know them very well.
There is one bathroom, I get up in the night to pee. I stand over the toilet and stretch my back as I do, hands-to-hips. I turn. Annie is standing there in the open door, frowning.
“Do you super-man pose while you pee?”
I frown, still half-asleep.
Her eyes go wide. “Do all men super-man pose while they pee?”
I put my hands down, not sure what to do with them.
“Close the door!”
She does, slowly. I finish, flush and walk out. Indie, my cat, waits for me outside the door. I shake my head at her, “why did I decide to live with women?” I ask.
She either doesn’t know, or doesn’t feel like telling me. So, I pick her up and head for bed. As I pass by the girl’s room, I see they are up, lights on. The door is open. Gently, I step passed.
“Wait!” Annie calls. I sigh and turn back. I look in. Her and Tessa are both smirking.
“Do you really super-man pose while you pee?” Tessa asks.
I sigh. “No.”
“He does,” Annie interjects.
“I was just tired and holding onto myself,” I tell them.
“Holding onto yourself?” one of them asks.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Tessa remarks.
“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Annie agrees.
I look down at my cat.
“Well, at least I put the toilet seat down after,” I tell them.
Annie nods, then they both frown.
“Wait, no you don’t!” they call, but I’m already walking toward my door.
I pet Indie, whispering to her, or myself “I’m never living with women again.”