Some nights my beloved cat, Noodles, sits on the front porch and chats with Stig, the alley cat. Stig has no permanant address, yet his personality is superior to that of most homeless people. Last night I happen to over hear them talking about Stig's past.
"Yeah, I was living with a guy downtown"
"Where about's, Stig?"
"It was in one of those new type apartments, you know, where there used to be a store or a warehouse."
"So you were living with someone who was pretty well healed, and otherwise, a piece of shit."
"Yeah. Yeah. The guy has money."
"So what happened, Stig?"
"Problem with the guy's piano."
"Okay, it's his priceless Steinway concert grand piano."
"You fucked with it."
"Yeah. I did. I fucked with it."
"So you just decided to fuck with his Steinway?"
"No. He kept making me get off his piano. Fucking piano. That's what I say. It's his fucking fault. Anyway, when he was out of the room I'd hop in the open cover and piss and shit on the strings. Sometimes I'd take a piss right in the goddam hammer assemblies. Takes months for it to take effect."
"So he noticed sooner or later that there was piss and shit in his piano."
"That's about the size of it."
"Was he one of those assholes who think they're Carl Haas?"
"No. This asshole thought he was Liberace. Fucking closet case. But since you mention it, he was playing the Pathetique Sonata, when shit balls started flying out the front of the goddam Steinway. Some of them bounced off the canope and hit the bastard in the face."
"So it was worth getting kicked out."
"Oh, fuck yeah."