I love stories. I love hearing them and I love telling them. A witty anecdote can impress, amuse and astonish anyone. It also helps if you don't mind laughing at yourself. This is a prerequisite for me as most of my stories revolve around my own ineptitude. "As long as I don't end up in hospital it will be a successful weekend" is my most famous beginning to a story. If you ever want to hear the whole comedy of errors feel free to ask next time you see me!
On to the featured narrative...
This is only a short tale but the uniqueness of it left me no choice but to come out of blogging retirement to share it with you. A small, middle aged woman came into the shop today, she had a kind of Susan Boyle vibe going on, only less satanic. After perusing the shelves she asked politely if we had any monkey related products other than the door hangers she had already spotted. My boss informed her that we had a tin of monkey plasters and she was overjoyed to purchase them at the reasonable price of five English pounds.
Then she began talking...
At first I paid little attention as most customers tend to talk boring nonsense but her delightful Scottish accent encapsulated me. I was hanging on her every word. She was a teacher and the monkey plasters were for her pupils. I was about to ask why but there was no need, she was on a roll. It turned out that long ago her class had adopted a monkey. Sadly though, it was on its way to join Bubbles, Koko and King Kong in the big jungle in the sky. In the animals honour the class were holding a memorial service, very sweet I thought.
The wee teacher was not finished though. I was curious to find out how the poor monkey had met its demise but was hesitant to ask. It didn't matter as the motormouth lady was not stopping! It had been in quarantine she explained, so I immediately concluded that the poor thing was riddled with more diseases than a Thai hooker. I couldn't have been more wrong.
After a lengthy period away from civilisation the hairy primate was allowed to roam wild and free again. Not knowing exactly where, geographically, the lady was referring to, I chose to imagine an African jungle in uuh... Africa somewhere. However, she informed me that it's first foray back into the outside world took place on a golf course!
This poor choice of location was to be the downfall of the unfortunate monkey. As the teacher casually unfolded the conclusion of her story she slowly began breaking into a childish grin. I was completely focused on her face, my mouth also starting to form into a smile and she uttered the inplausible words "the poor thing got hit in the head by a stray golf ball!"
UNBELIEVABLE.
And suddenly she was gone, like a fart in the wind, shuffling out of the shop to tell someone else her preposterous but true tale. I never once doubted her and I still don't, at least I think I don't. I had so many questions to ask... Why take a monkey for a walk on a golf course? In fact that's it. WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU TAKE A MONKEY FOR A WALK ON A GOLF COURSE!?
Actually, one more question... How do you tell that to a group of primary school children!? the poor little nippers would have been distraught!
If they had a Darwin Awards for animals this would have to be right up there. How unlucky.
Rest in peace my banana eating friend... Rest in peace.
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