by anonymous
It was the start of the semester and I was busy with my Rally Cat duties; after all, these young cats were not going to be rallied themselves. But it was hard to stay focused, and the last thing I needed was another distraction.
It started when I checked my email on Friday. Just another normal day. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and then I saw the top of my inbox. Suresh V. Garimella. President.
Dear Rally Cat,
The way you rally a crowd really rallies my heart. I take inspiration from your vigor and try to put that into my schoolwide emails. Honestly, we have a real connection. If you want to stop by my office tomorrow, I can give you a reward for your hard work and passion for the students of the university.
Love,
Suresh,
President of UVM
I couldn’t believe my catlike eyes. A personal invitation from the president of UVM himself: Suresh Garimella. Not only would I step into the elusive diplomat’s office, but be in the presence of, let’s face it, a god. What could he possibly want from me?
The day was hot and the tension was even hotter. I walked by the blue fountain waters in front of Waterman, mind lost in the frothing bubbles. Students stared wide-eyed as I passed. The mascot! The face of the university! I was swarmed with bright young pupils itching for an autograph.
“I must pass through,” I said. “I have important business to attend to.” And I smiled to myself. I made my way through the crowd to the epic gates of the Waterman building. As I walked through that door I felt a rush of excitement, a wave of energy that was unmatched by any rally I had experienced.
The office was chilled. I was thankful I had my fur but what I really wanted was Suresh’s warmth. I was waiting in a lonesome chair in front of his impressive desk, stacked with countless papers of extreme importance. Then the door opened and I gazed upon him. The suit. The mustache. It was all there. Suresh had entered.
“Mr. Cat, so nice to finally meet you, “ He spoke in a soft voice, very academic and sophisticated. He slowly moved around his room and settled comfortably in his grand chair. His hands clasped together and he smiled.
“Today, the game we’re going to be playing is not a matter of sports,” he said, reaching for my ruffled cat tail.
“Suresh!” I was in shock.
“Look at you, your fuzzy cheeks are turning red,” he chuckled. “I can make your other cheeks match the same color.”
This man was too kinky for me. I had to get out.
“U-u-uh, Suresh, I’d love to, but I have to be at the soccer game in 30 minutes,” I stammered, and flew out of there as fast as I could.
That game, soccer balls weren’t the only balls I was kicking around in my head.