Well, faithful readers, it seems that I cannot stop finding moments where people are monkeying around! The latest being an encounter with an attractive lady and her (apparently) pet monkey in a cage at a bar!  Here’s how it went down…

Life turns my pages from not being on the radio into a journalist-blogger and a journalist seeking to educate sparse education, through the proof-of current events, of the rampant lack of home training preparation for and in many a situation these days.

So where are they?  Those educated like we “baby boomers”? Somewhere in like a mural or something? Inside the dying malls, the cavernous one where a Macy’s is connected to at one end, full of empty shop displays in-between over to the far end where a dying JC Penney lies.  All I was looking for was the watch repair shop advertised online.  Even overheard a conversation between a mother and a son/elder and a young boy who’s with a friend and says this f****** s*** is boring! To which she admonishes them to “stop that God damn cussing!” The boy looks up at the journalist incredulously. Did she know or does she know? Doesn’t she know how she just sounded? 

This all comes to mind following my mission and stopping-off to enjoy a relaxing cocktail at one of my favorite watering holes.  I look for an open seat without being next to anyone or crowded, so that I do not have to endure distracting conversations, maybe from someone out just looking to get away from their nagging wife and noisy children, as I settle the world of the day.  Immediately, I see a pretty lady, with long brownish-blond hair (like I like), sitting alone at my favorite far-end corner of the bar and I approach her saying, in my best Sean Connery as 007 James Bond impression, “Hey pretty lady, is anybody sitting here?” She replies, “No.” as there she sits and I am about to take that chair.

“What’s you name?” I ask. She says “Kayla” and then announces, “This is my monkey.”    And I turned and I looked at her, questioning what I thought I heard.  She said, “My monkey in a box.”
And then I told her, “It’s looking lonely…”, still not getting what she was talking about.

Now I’m thinking Peter Gabriel’s “Shock the Monkey“, or maybe she is hitting on me; it’s a come-on line, like “wanna spank my monkey?”  Just then, my gaze turns slightly past her and to the left, and there she has a live monkey in a box cage! Shocked, I’m like, “WTF?” Are you kidding me? GTFOOH!”

Antique photo: Organ grinder

You can’t make this stuff up; this is an intelligent-looking, very attractive woman with beautiful, long, brownish-blond hair sitting at the bar of a public bar/grill/pool room with [apparently], her pet…monkey!

I’m wondering, why is this chick running-around with a monkey-in-a-box and where is the organ grinder?  And, it took me back to my youthful days in New York City, where, at the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus, we would be entertained by the organ grinder, or even see them on the Manhattan street corners, entertaining for pocket money of passers-by!

It also briefly brought to mind, the around-the-way burger joint of my youth in, “Jack in The Box”, which I quickly dismissed, when “monkey burgers” came to mind. Ouch! And yes, “The Monkey” was a dance step we used to do if we were “cool” back in the sixties and seventies!

 

“To each his own”, comes to mind, as my Mum would say, while shaking her head traditionally misunderstanding new things of the day.  Me too. Keep on dancing!