Perfect Execution of the Race Card

Work’s been a bit of a drag lately, and when I get bored, I usually get mischievous.

Today around 4:22p, I thought about how funny it would be if I tricked someone into eating some of Ella’s dry cat food, some of which I had in a Ziplock back in my satchel, having dropped her off at the pet hotel earlier in the day because my apartment was being serviced.

Unfortunately, most of the folks who sit on my side of the office take off between 3:30p and 4:15p. Which left only My Two Dads.

My Norwegian dad had just finished cat-sitting, so I figured the ruse wouldn’t work with him. Which left my Ugandan dad. Who’d give you the shirt off his back in the middle of a snowstorm.

As I walked into his officle, I had the same feeling that I used to get when I was about to trick my little brother into do something dumb, like putting the Slip ‘N Slide on the swingset slide, or taking the fall for stealing me an extra Oreo. Which is usually a sign I shouldn’t do something.

“Hey, E…want some of this? It’s a pretty good mix I made. It’s a little spicy, but not bad.” Don’t make direct eye conact, don’t make direct eye contact.

At this mention, Norwegian dad, who sits adjacent to Ugandan dad, swiveled his chair around.

I stuck out the open Ziplock bag and E started to reach his hand inside. Don’t make direct eye contact, don’t make direct eye contact. This is going to fucking rule.

“You know,” E said curiously, “This looks a little like dog food.”

And with that I cracked; I dropped the bag to my side and started laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.

“What? You were gonna feed me dog food? Megan, I can’t believe you!”

“It’s cat food,” I said between breaths, “and you have to admit, that was friggin’ hilarious.”

“Megan, you’re so mean,” teased Norwegian dad. “I can’t believe you did that to poor E. Just because he’s a foreigner. I’m so disappointed.”

And somehow shortly after that, I ended up eating a piece of dry cat food.

That’s the beauty of the perfect execution of the race card. It dredges up guilt even when there should be none. And that guilt makes you put gross stuff in your mouth, chew it up and swallow it.


6 responses to “Perfect Execution of the Race Card

  1. AH HA HA HA HA….still can’t believe it. From this day forth you will be known as “Whiskers the Racist Cat Woman.”

  2. ‘My Two Dads’ – hilarious! I sooo wish E ate the food, but in a way – you would have been toast! Probably better this way 🙂 PS -Welcome to the pet food eating club!

  3. See! It was a totally hilarious and harmless prank! I’m also thinking it would have totally ruled if he would’ve been like, “Yeah, it’s not so bad,” and reached for more. This is how these things go when I’m conjuring them up in my warped little brain.

    As for the pet food…unfortunately my dad once paid me $10 to eat a full bite of wet cat food. It was a long time ago, but I think the wet food wins by a nose.

    Although, now you’re going to have to tell me what kind of pet food you’ve eaten. 🙂

  4. omg Megan, WET cat food?! BARFY MCBARFERSON.

  5. True. If memory serves I had quite the tummy ache afterwards. Unfortunately it’s in my DNA to do something when somebody:

    a) Tells me I can’t
    b) Will pay me to

    Hmm. That second point might need rephrasing…

  6. EEEEEEEWW! Wet cat food – that takes the cake for sure. I don’t think you could pay me to do that – unless lots of mula was involved. I only ate dry dog food – Kiel and I would dare each other on long-ass car trips to the mountains when we were little. We had a rottweiler – so the kibbles weren’t exactly small.

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