The Cat's Pajamas

THE CAT’S PAJAMAS
2003
IT IS NOT EVERY NIGHT driving along Millpass, California’s Route 9, that one expects to spy a cat in the middle lane.
For that matter, it is not every evening that such a cat could be found on any untrafficked road, the cat being, more or less, an abandoned kitten.
Nevertheless, the small creature was there, busily cleaning itself, when two things happened:
A car traveling east at a rapid rate suddenly braked to a halt.
Simultaneously, a much more rapid convertible, traveling west, almost ruptured its tires to a dead standstill.
The doors of both cars banged wide in unison.
The small beast remained calm as high heels clattered one way and golfing brogans banged the other.
Almost colliding over the self-groo

It’s your Oedipus complex, Jerry. Women never seem like females to you. They seem like bathed, flowered, sexless ivory carvings on rococo pedestals. You loved your mother too completely.