I was asked to leave my weekly square dance lesson for the second time this month because the teacher didn’t like my attitude. Even though I stepped on her foot several times, kneed her in the crotch, and accidentally spun her into a steel post it was obvious she was intimidated by my superior abilities. I was upset and wanted to quit the class, but I liked the outfits too much. When I got back to my apartment I headed for the kitchen to get a can of Orange Fanta, but I froze in the doorway when I saw the hairy creature sitting on the kitchen table staring at me.
Being an urban lad I wasn’t very familiar with all of nature’s beasts, but I was fairly certain my guest was a small monkey wearing a diaper. The more I looked at the little guy I couldn’t help but notice the resemblance to my Aunt Maggie except she had more hair on her upper lip. Since I didn’t have a clue on the gender I decided my new friend should be a male. Besides, I always wanted a brother. Actually I already had a brother, but I didn’t think this one would beat me up and steal my Oreos.
The more I thought about how my new friend got into my apartment I figured it probably involved my neighbor Andrew who would sometimes sneak into my apartment while I was at work. One time I caught all three hundred pounds of Andrew singing to an older version of La Traviata while wearing nothing but an apron. The spectacle disgusted me so much because the song he was singing should have been done in soprano and not baritone. He ruined it for me.
Even though I had no idea where my new friend came from I decided to let him hang out with me and named him Fletcher. Fletcher started screaming and jumping around my one room apartment. In fact he got down right boisterous to the point where I had to do something to calm him down or risk him destroying what little possessions I had. Several times he created various shapes and letters with my blue Play-Doh even though I asked him many times to only use the red Play-Doh. That’s a primate for you.
He trotted over to my coffee table and started playing The Entertainer on my electronic keyboard. I was unimpressed, especially since he was using the sheet music in front of him. The few times I tried to cover the sheet music he shook his head and spit at me.
Once Fletcher calmed down we played several games of checkers, but eventually we had to stop when he repeatedly swallowed the pieces. It was frustrating because I was finally on the verge of beating him. I think he acted up on purpose. Bad monkey!
It was getting late and I figured the least I could do was offer him something to eat. All I had were cold cuts and bread so I made him a sandwich. Apparently that wasn’t good enough for him because he took one bite and tossed it at me and the wall. I wasn’t sure if he wanted the crusts cut off or something else. I guess he wanted more mustard because he squeezed the remains of the bottle into his mouth. While I cleaned up the sandwich Fletcher chomped on a celery stick he found under the refrigerator.
There was a knock at the front door. It was Andrew. He apologized for letting Fletcher in my apartment. He told me the little guy really belonged to some college professor on the first floor. As they left I tried to give Fletcher a hug goodbye, but he burped at me instead. However, just outside the door he turned back, smiled, and pulled my television remote from his diaper and handed it to me.
I waved goodbye and was ecstatic Fletcher had found the remote control that I lost two months earlier. He had become a good friend.