Look, I’m not Henny Youngman. My responsibility isn’t solely to entertain, which I’ve proven in the past.
Sometimes I just gotta blow off steam.
I had a big trauma today.
I was preparing to have company for dinner so I figure the least I can do is take out the weeks of garbage that I have accumulated. Elvis followed me into the hallway.
Since David and Liz are in Quogue and the French people down the hall are in Europe, or wherever France is, I decide to leave my door open so the boys can enjoy the hall.
After awhile I noticed that Elvis hasn’t returned from his outing so I go into the hallway only to see that the the door to the fire stairs is open.
I immediately ran back to my apartment to see if he came back without me noticing. If you remember the shoe incident from a few days ago you’ll realize that that was entirely possible.
No cat. I grab a book to hold the elevator door open on each floor while I start my search. I live on the eighteenth floor but I decide to start at the Penthouse because, well he could have gone up or down.
I could drag this out by telling you how my search went and how my heart was beating the whole time but I’ll save you from that.
I found him on 8. He was shaking like a leaf.
We hugged and kissed and now he’s home and back in his old routine.
Hiding so he can scare Ray
And catching forty
It’s been a tough morning.