I knew I wouldn’t last long in that
office a week after I joined. In half a year, I was out after clearing my
probation. It was just my stubbornness to prove I was good enough for the
company I didn’t like, but they were kind to me (except for one thieving mentor
who stole my work and passed it off as his own). That was my shortest working
period in a company. This was the year 2012.
As I tendered my resignation in
November, I could only leave in December because of the one-month notice.
Therefore, the time would fall around Christmas.
Besides the working style that was
opposite to mine, which was one of the main reasons I quit, I also couldn’t
stand the party culture there. They celebrated every birthday and event, which
probably doesn’t sound like something terrible, but it was for me. They were
distractions, and standing around awkwardly, clapping, and singing off tune
were not my cup of tea. There were fewer than 20 people in the company, but I
swear it happened at least twice a week. We had to fork out extra money every
time for food I didn’t like, and for times I didn’t enjoy. I was so relieved to
quit before my birthday month because it was something I dreaded. I’m not
exaggerating, it actually gave me social anxiety, and I’d do ridiculous things
to avoid it, including wasting my off day to escape my birthday in another
office. Attention. Party. Celebration. It sounds ridiculous to be scared, but
trust me, there are many like me.
Back to the story. Since it was
December, of course, the problem was Christmas parties outside office hours.
They had many planned along the way (yes, multiple Christmas/New Year
celebrations), but there was a particular one that was purposely timed before
my leaving date. While I had become an expert at avoiding this kind of social
situation, this time I couldn’t escape because of that. It was some sort of
dedication to me, well, except for another painful farewell in the office.
The barbecue party would be conducted
in one of the project managers’ home, a female who stayed in an apartment unit
with a small balcony for outdoor barbecue. There would be over ten people, so
the place was quite cramped.
As usual, if I had to attend a
barbecue in this kind of awkward ‘I don’t know or like you well enough’ office
setting, I would volunteer and park my ass in front of the grill to make myself
busy so that I didn’t need to socialize too much.
While it sounds like torture for me, I
have a unique memory of this party. So, before the barbecue, we helped prep the
food. Taking them out of the freezer, and categorizing them nicely for the
flaming execution. There was a small kitchen for that, with a medium-sized
fridge that held all the food. Everything went well. The food was okay, and the
people were nice, giving me well-wishes. After the barbecue, we sat around
chatting.
The host, let’s call her Anna (just in
case she reads this one day, since the story is quite unique), told us she
looked forward to her boyfriend's visit. Anna was in her thirties, so we are
not talking about teenagers here. The conversation flew from there, and someone
asked her about her cat. Apparently, this person was close enough to Anna that
she knew about her cat.
“My cat just died.” That was Anna’s
answer, and it happened a few days/a week before. Of course, we were shocked
and offered our condolences. I understand the pain of losing a pet. Anna then
explained that it was unfortunate that her boyfriend was away because she would
like her boyfriend to see the cat one last time, since he also loved the pet a
lot, therefore she had put the cat in the freezer.
At this moment, my eyes were bulging,
but fortunately, I sat in the corner, obscured by a potted palm tree (nice
spot). Unfortunately, I didn’t mishear it. Someone asked, “In the freezer in
your kitchen?” and Anna confirmed it while continuing to share stories about
how his boyfriend loved the cat without missing a beat. The story moved to
their relationship, and Anna was a talker that nobody had the time to process
the freezer cat information. I just noticed people who were still holding on to
their plates had stopped chewing.
I have to give credit to my fellow
co-workers here, they were nice and politically correct, but it also drove me
nuts. No one commented anything, although I saw some weird expressions. Me? I
always try to be invisible in this kind of social situation. The party went on.
To be honest, it weirded me out. Her
fridge was a normal fridge with a common freezer that held the food we ate that
night. I don’t know about the potential health risk, but the idea itself sounds
nuts to me. So there was a dead cat next to our marinated chicken wings. I
probably made an eye contact, and grateful I didn’t take the wrong thing out
for barbecue. I also don’t think anyone would prefer to look at their frozen
pet in their last moments, but I could be wrong. I have seen two delayed pet
funerals (when the pets had to be kept in a freezer first), and in those cases,
they looked okay, but they were handled by professionals and kept in freezers
dedicated to that purpose. I deal with frozen food a lot, and they don’t look
good after staying in a home fridge for a while. Tiny ice particles would cover
the surface, along with many other undesirable details.
However, since I didn’t want to ask
anyone there what they thought about it because I didn’t want to gossip or
invite unwanted conversations, I spent my last few days in the office without
pursuing my curiosity. Maybe it was a normal practice that I wasn’t aware of,
so I brushed this aside in my memory.
Until one day, which was actually
quite recent, just a few months ago, I found a similar story in Reddit. I can’t
access Reddit where I am, but a YouTube video about it appeared in my
algorithm. One of the stories was about a cat in the freezer. The story only
involved family members, and it weirded them out. The comments agreed that it
sounds nuts. So, after fourteen years, I get the confirmation that the freezer
cat is not a normal thing to do! Not to mention the bigger scale of my story,
when the food was served to multiple people who had no prior knowledge about
it.
So, this is my freezer cat story. I’m
not sure why I didn’t tell it to people around me back then (which I’ll do
now). I guess the party itself was too overwhelming, and after that, I dealt
with moving away for my new job. It was forgotten, and now I have been
collecting inputs about the story. Do you think it’s normal/weird?
I’m sorry I haven’t been posting for a
while. There were some personal matters and family reunions to attend. All
good.
Wishing you a good one as well. With a
blink of an eye, 2025 and the holiday season had come and gone. For me, as long
as my loved ones are happy and healthy, I consider it a good year.
Just like Die Hard is a Christmas
movie, Freezer Cat is my holiday tale.
I parallel post my newsletter here. In my main one you’ll get free short story or you can get them here The Freezer Cat.
Thank you for being here.
