serving_love | (no subject)

It's your galley. If you don't want me there, who am I to argue?

I don't want Hattori there, I don't want animals that aren't cooked and ready to be eaten there, that doesn't mean I don't want YOU there!

Right. You don't want him there; you don't want me there.

...I don't get it.

Haven't you ever heard the expression, "Love me, love my pet"?

Only, don't love me. It's a comparison.

Nope, never.

I had a pet once. It was a kitten that wandered on board the Baratie. I used to bring it scraps of food and feed it out on the deck because the old man would've skinned me alive before letting me bring it into his kitchen.

I used to bring Hattori scraps of food as well. We shared our dinner under the bridge where I taught him to fly, or behind the general store because there was a bin where they would throw food that was just going bad, or on the roof of my home when I was allowed food there, because my mother wouldn't let me bring him into the house. I ate with him outside even when she was willing to let me come in, because she might throw me out, and the cats behind the general store might hiss at me, and the rats under the bridge might sneak up and steal our scraps, but Hattori always stayed with me even when I had no food for days.

So if you want Hattori to eat in the hold, I will go with him.

Oh, fuck you and your guilt tripping. Fine, let him eat at the table, whatever.

It's not guilt tripping. It's an explanation. You didn't seem to understand why it was important, so I told you.

This all could have been avoided had you simply asked him to leave while you were cooking and explained that feathers are a health risk. He's very clean, though, for the record.

...I'm not in the habit of talking to pigeons.

Also I think he ENJOYS irritating me.

Maybe you ought to get into it.

Of course he does, but he has the maturity of a four-year-old child. You have to be patient with him.

No.

Great. A bratty little four-year-old annoying the crap out of me. My favorite.

He's like a child prodigy, though, in a way. Could you write when you were four? Comparatively, he's smarter than you. You ought to show him some respect.

...You apparently had him when you were still with your mother, which makes him...I don't know, at least fucking twenty. And because he can write NOW, at his four-year-old mental capacity that he's finally reached after twenty something years, that makes him smarter than me.

Uh-huh.

It was a joke, Sanji. Also, he's 26.

I was merely pointing out how incredibly stupid a comment that was!

I didn't realize they lived that long.

If I did that with all of your comments, we'd never get anywhere, would we?

Domesticated ringneck doves have been known to live up to thirty or thirty-five years in captivity when well cared for, on rare occasions.

Only because you'd take far too long each time trying to find something stupid about the things I say.

Oh yeah? He'll probably hang around till he's forty just to spite me.

It wouldn't take long. That was a stupid comment, right there.

One hopes.

That was a completely intelligent comment.

I wonder if my cat is still alive.

Right.

That probably depends on how old it is, what it ate, what conditions it was kept in, and how well it was looked after.

At least you agree with me.

Well I wouldn't know any of that, would I. Thus wondering.

That was sarcasm.

You wouldn't?

I know, I was pretending it wasn't.

...I ended up letting some girl take him home.

Good for you.

This does not surprise me in the least. Out of curiosity, is there anything a pretty girl could ask you to do that you wouldn't agree to?