Our fateful protagonist, yours truly, has no qualms about keeping wild animals in captivity. Given that, there was a time where I was gainfully unemployed due to decisions I made when I imprudently made career determinations involving paltry little details like “overall happiness” and “valuing my worth.” During this period I went to the zoo quite often. One could say I went to the zizoo like a mufucka, but I don’t personally know anyone who would. I didn’t go to get my animal learn on or anything, I just went for the simplest of reasons: monkeys make me happy. When you walk into this zoo, one of the first things you see past the faggy little pink flamingos are a group of white howler monkeys doing what howler monkeys do. No, not run the United States Congress; howl!
The last thing I really enjoy doing at the zoo is lying to children.
There are certain things I enjoy doing at the zoo. I like making funny faces at the chimpanzees through the looking glass in the faux-cave entrance they’ve set up for our enjoyment. I also like renting and riding the 4-seater bicycles and picking up strangers to fill the empty seats. When I pick them up, I make sure to use lines like “come with me if you want to live” in my best Arnold impression or, “I have candy.” Some, nay, most people either decline politely or say nothing while pretending not to have heard my advances, but the hardy ones who aren’t shitty killjoys take me up on my offer.
The last thing I really enjoy doing at the zoo is lying to children. I mean really, really lying to their faces and making up complete bullshit FOX News-like facts about the animals they’re looking at. I start off small with pseudo lies that can be passed off as facts. “Baby hippos are born without eyes. It takes 1 month for them to grow after birth.” Then I move on to more nonsensical fabrications. “Like trees, you can tell how old a giraffe is by cutting off its head and counting the rings on its neck. That’s why they’re endangered.” Then finally I go full-on absurd. “Did you know that 3-toed sloths feed on the crushed dreams of minor league baseball players?” I will make a great father.
The bad words he knew were, “whore”, “jack off”, “motherfucker”, “twat”, and “Celine Dion.”
This preamble sets us up for the tale of my tiny cousin Eduardo visiting the United States for the first time. He fancies himself an intelligent 5-year-old, and due to his lack of English skills he acquired a sense of pride from learning a couple of bad words from, I assume, dubious ruffians either at his school or on television. The bad words he knew were, “whore”, “jack off”, “motherfucker”, “twat”, and “Celine Dion.” I guess twat and Celine Dion are synonyms, so let’s stick with the four. I discovered he learned these words when the little piece of shit called me a whore to my face. Now, he didn’t know the meaning of those words, he just knew the words. That’s pretty much congruent with how people know the lyrics to Lil’ Wayne songs but NO ONE HAS A FUCKING CLUE what the asshole is talking about. I explained to him what each of those words meant.
I figured this kid thinks he’s slick, I’ll take him to the zoo and mindfuck the knowledge out of him like a good big cousin would do. That’ll show him.
It cost like $13 or $14 to do so, I don’t remember how much exactly, but it included monorail access. The monorail at the zoo is the shit because it lets you see just how small the place really is, and just how abhorrently small the animals’ spaces are. The orangutan pit looked like a 500 sq. ft apartment in Greenwich Village, minus all the Liza Minelli and Ethel Merman posters. The monorail was the first big con I pulled on him. I told him it was a hovercraft, and I kept the charade going by making sure to point him in the direction of a window that didn’t show the tracks. He had his doubts that we were actually flying, and the smart little dbag claimed we were actually being suspended by all those beams he saw as we walked around the zoo, but I was persistent.
Next I told him elephants went extinct thousands of years ago and that when he sees an elephant it is in reality a series of flexible midgets in a costume. That’s why you see elephants in circuses, because circuses are full of weird things and clowns. He had trouble comprehending this newfound factoid.
There’s a guy who paints the flamingos every evening.
The venom that comes out of a snake’s fang is where beer is derived.
Zebras are referees at horse races.
He had a blast at the zoo, and the little Celine Dion had no problem extorting me out of all sorts of toys and souvenirs. He did make some super sweet faces at the chimps though, I was impressed with this revelation of commonality between us. He believed all the bullshit I fed him. “So when the female lions give the male lion a haircut, is it ALWAYS on his birthday or could it be on any day?” Awesome.
Later that night I heard him speaking over the phone with his dad. “Orlando took me to the zoo today, dad! But he lied a lot, he said we were on a flying train, but I know that’s not true.”
That little motherfucker.
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