To the annoying kids at the gorilla exhibit that I love

I love to visit the gorilla exhibit at the zoo. Unfortunately, my fascination for these magnificent creatures is also shared by children who crowd the coveted glass position. Yes, I’m an adult who can see over their heads (sometimes – the “special ingredient” in the school’s creamed corn must be steroids), however it isn’t the same. I also deserve the opportunity to stare into the eyes of a gorilla and see who blinks first. – Mel

Dear Kids:

What the hell?  Don’t you see me standing behind you, waiting impatiently for my turn?  I understand that you like watching the gorillas, I do too, but I’m not here to ooh and ahh, I’ve got serious business.  While you are looking, pointing, laughing, and annoying the crap out of the gorillas by pounding on the glass, I’ve got vengeance on my mind.  That’s right.  I have a beef with one of them.  The one they affectionately call King Kong.

You see kids, King Kong and I go way back.  I’ve been coming to the zoo to see him since he was a little baby and we became great friends.  But all of that changed the last time I was here.  The last time I came to visit him, I watched in confusion and alarm as he took a dump in his hand and then flung it at me.  Lucky for me, the glass took the impact of his shit, but it doesn’t change the fact that he tried to cover me in his feces.  And you should have seen the look on his face when he did it.  Pure defiance.  I have no idea what I did to deserve such hatred, but I do know that there’s only one thing left to do.  Battle it out with a staring contest.  I want to stare coldly into the eyes of King Kong and make sure that bastard blinks first.

However, it’s going to be a little difficult for me to win the staring contest when you kids won’t get out of the way.  I’m perfectly aware that I’m an adult and can see over you, but that’s not the point.  It’s the principle of the matter.  How do you expect me to get King Kong to take me seriously when it looks like I’m hiding behind a bunch of third graders?  He’ll just laugh at me and reload his hand with another present.

So please kids, I beg you, get out of the way.  Move aside and let me press my face up to the glass for once.  If you refuse and continue to insist on obstructing the view to my staring contest, I’m going to take a page out of King Kong’s book and start flinging my poo.  Consider yourselves warned.


Friend to the Gorillas

Amy Vansant

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