Cat In A White Tie And Tails

For now, though, I stare at the endless passing parade of street performers, which stops frequently to bilk the tourists of a buck or two. This is a job even my senior partner’s Miss Temple could not manage. The hotels wish these colorful pests to be gone so all the dollars will flow into their own expensively housed coffers. Yet, to be seen hustling away folks likely hurt by the international wave of economic woes … is bad for business. So, for once, the powers-that-be in Las Vegas face a lose–lose situation, when it is always win–win in their casinos.

However, I am on a mission to foil a possibly international gang of robbers, killers, and bad actors far beyond what these sidewalk performers can manage. How will I make my smooth and swift way through such a milling crowd without losing toes to the crush?

Then I notice a new sight on ye olde Boulevard. Human heads skating along a full foot above the rest. The motion is too steady, and too slow, to come from any sort of skateboard.

I use my claws to ratchet up the nearest palm tree trunk, a tough, rough climb.

At that height, I spot a group of people who are rolling along together on a bicycle built for one, meaning it is not a bicycle. They are instead sailing forward while standing still on two fat wheels at either side of their lazy feet. Their hands curl pawlike around a very short handlebar.

The sight is enough to make a cat laugh. They all look so straight and solemn that boulevard strollers stop and turn, and make way for them. That is what I need! A royal escort service.

I immediately recognize a fad at work, the so-called Segway. Sadly, the rolling platform is only big enough for two admittedly flat feet. Once again we four-foots have been blatantly discriminated against.

While I fret at the injustice of it all, the leader of the Segway easy riders announces passing landmarks on the tour.

My goal is only three massive properties farther along the Strip. I twitch my whiskers in indecision, rejecting hitching a ride on the wheels’ skimpy metal fenders that offer no purchase for claws.

I am lithe and supple compared to my middle-aging deadbeat dad, but even a slip of a thing like me recognizes when there is no room at the inn.

The wheeled group sweeps on by, my opportunity gliding away with them.