Monday, January 9, 2012

Day-Crawlers in the Mist -- Part XIII

The local watering-hole was rather quiet a couple of days past the massive holiday and year's end migration. Only a few pockets of Day-Crawlers were strewn about the counter. At the one corner sat two females with the blondest hair I have ever encountered during my travels! Gators or not, it mattered not since my focus was transfixed on a most intriguing specimen which I spotted only a few yards away from me, past the females...the wildly entertaining, yet completely pathetic Drunken Monkey!!!

(As I physically write these lines in my trusty notebook, the Drunken Monkey has sidled up next to me, and with nostrils flaring he is try to make sense of me...I must be prudent and especially not to make any eye contact! He will wander off soon enough...I hope...)

Specimen #13209493-B: THE DRUNKEN MONKEY
Caucasian Beta male in his early to mid thirties; Buzzed haircut; slightly overweight; wearing the standard khaki twill pants; an untucked pastel plaid button-down shirt with an unbuttoned collar to reveal a white tee-shirt underneath. Covered with the typical blue blazer. Cannot detect if he has a wedding band on his ring finger or not. Beverage preference: Vodka and cranberry juice.
We'll call him Mr. Wiggles.

Now...Mr. Wiggles is a floppy mess having swallowed too many alcoholic beverages over the past few hours. At his current state his tact and inhibitions are considerably lowered, while his libido and sexual thirst is at an all-time high! He strategically positions himself at a central point of the watering-hole, with empty slots on either side of him, hopefully to be soon filled by one or more pieces of hapless prey.

One of the sure signs to look for when trying to spot any Drunken Monkey is that his blurred field of vision causes his eyes to cross slightly, giving him a limited range of about forty-eight inches of visibility. This reduced ocular function will, in turn, cause the Drunken Monkey to swing his head intermittently from right to left as he scans his surroundings for any potential females. If there are none in his field of view his head will droop down as his gaze will fix on a particular focal point which is his drink situated directly before him. This process will repeat itself every few seconds or so...until the inevitable victim(s) will come close enough into his range. Mr. Wiggles exuded all of these signs, even to comical proportions. It was as though his neck was made out of loose rubber!

Soon fate would have it, a pair of Gazelles unknowingly prance up to the counter to order something, placing themselves precariously close to Mr. Wiggles' left side. Part of me felt bad for feeling a bit of excitement as to what will about to happen...and part of me wanted to warn them of the impending danger lurking over their shoulder, but no...I mustn't interfere with the natural order of the Day-Crawler I sat and watched with anticipation!

The two unescorted females were promptly greeted by the Tender-of-the-Bar and had their requests taken. Meanwhile, the loose-necked Mr. Wiggles was sizing up the two females. One was taller than the other...attractive enough (by Day-Crawler standards)...and like all other "Gazelles," completely nondescript! They giggle to themselves and pay little attention to the Drunken Monkey squirming behind them. By the time the females' libations are poured, stirred, and served, Mr. Wiggles motions, in a manner fitting a buffoon (whatever animal that may be...), to the bartender that he will gladly pay for these two tall glasses of intoxicating offering, as it were.

The entire "I'd-like-to-buy-her-a-drink" tactic employed by Day-Crawler males is almost as old as human existence itself...and I deplore the method to the very bottom of my core! Allow me to explain: First and foremost it is a cheap and underhanded tactic that takes no creativity, not to mention it puts the bartender in the position of "breaking-the-ice" for the male...that lacks courage and confidence as well. It also awkwardly forces the recipient of said offering to either decline or thank the other person for their generosity, and thus obliging in ensuing conversation...warranted or not. Now...any Day-Crawler female can very well refuse the offering, but at the sake of being labeled a "bitch" or a "lesbian" by the offended party! But on the contrary, most of these Day-Crawler females indeed will accept the drink offers (they are expensive sometimes, soite) and be polite enough to engage in some light banter in exchange. Do not get me wrong, generosity comes with chivalry and proper romance...if there is one flaw I deeply suffer from is being overly generous with those I truly care about...but why would I be generous with someone I haven't met yet? To impress them? Hardly! I have bought some women I've just met drinks in my past, but only after I have been engaged in a good conversation for a substantial amount of time...not the other way around!!!

So...suffice it to say that Mr. Wiggles has stealthily employed this "master plan" tactic. The bartender complies. The two females are then put on the spot to show their gratitude and be polite toward him. For now, his plan seems to be working out. The taller one (closer to Mr. Wiggles) is trying to be pleasant while the shorter one has already figured him out for the Drunken Monkey he is. She is not amused. Soon enough her taller counterpart also senses the predicament they now face themselves in, but somehow continues to be courteous. So sad...

Suddenly, as the taller Gazelle is trying to avoid eye-contact with Mr. Wiggles, he moves in closer to her and starts to repeatedly kiss her right should as if they have been long-lost lovers. She tries to pay him no mind, maybe even laugh it off, but very quickly his behavior crosses onto the territory of sexual harassment. The bartender, ever vigil, sends hand signals to the manager/bouncer to separate the Drunken Monkey from the Gazelles (a fine display of silent communication between the two). In one smooth motion the extraction is made and the offended Gazelles gladly take their leave to freely roam about in the fields.

So what is a Drunken Monkey to do when suddenly left standing alone at the watering-hole? Search for new prey, is what!!! Remember those two overly bleached blond females I described before, sitting at the corner of the bar? TARGET LOCKED!!!

Getting a better look at these two brightly colored females, I notice that they are two prime specimens of the rare Western Blondback Warble ("Barbicae Peroxidicus Blondica"), and I could see how they could easily excite the primitive Day-Crawler male mind and reproductive glands. By this point of the night, the two Blondback Warbles, sitting still a few slots away from me to my right, were strategically surrounded by four Alpha males trying to out-charm each other for the sake of their attention and approval. When quite abruptly, out of nowhere, and expertly executed, Mr. Wiggles managed to slither in between the four Alpha males and make his way right next to the two females to engage in a spontaneous conversation with not one, but both of the them! In his warped mind he deserves all! BEHOLD! The skill of the Drunken Monkey!!!

The best moment was when the four Alpha males quizzically all look at one another as to try to figure out how this little slimy individual managed to penetrate their testosterone reinforced perimeter. The two Blondback Warbles, programmed by decades of genetically predetermined instincts, automatically respond to his matter how inane or absurd...simply because he is the closest to them.  Soon enough, the air is tense with the agitation of the four Alpha males trying to silently communicate, or with some slight grunting, on how to rid this intruder from their midst and especially from their prize!

Somehow, the two Blondback Warbles are quite amused by all of this...and why wouldn't they be? All of the positive attention is quite intoxicating as is flattering! Mr. Wiggles, with his limited field of view, finds the four competing males absolutely invisible to him -- his tunnel-vision is completely transfixed and hypnotized by the pure blondness situated before him.

Mr. Wiggles starts to employ his usual female charming spells, but he is increasingly sloppy at it. That is when one of the Alpha males has an incredible inspiration! He calls over for the bartender -- who continues to monitor the entire situation, as I have. The smarter Alpha male, in a loud and determined voice, declares that he would like to order shots for the entire little group of theirs...including Mr. Wiggles, their "new friend," as he forcefully clasps Mr. Wiggles on the shoulder, which momentarily breaks his concentration from the females, exuding a goofy yet approving smile. The bartender inquires as what he would like poured. "Seven shots of fine Tequila," four for the Alpha males, two for the Blondback Warbles, and one for their unexpected guest, the Drunken Monkey.

The bartender catches on and quickly pours out the potent liquid in seven tall glass cylinders. Each member take their glass, raise it in a toast to the new year to come, and proceed to pour the contents down their gullets. Within seconds after placing the shot glass on the counter, in a sudden move worthy of any 1980's teen comedy film, Mr. Wiggles goes from being an upright standing Drunken Monkey with a vertebrae to a sloppy puddle who has just dropped to the floor. Without a beat, the conquering Alpha male who came up with the plan exclaims, "CLEAN UP ON AISLE 4!!!" All of the others break out into a fit of laughter as the manager/bouncer is summoned over, yet again, this time to remove the pathetic remnants of the once proud Drunken Monkey from the floor and rid the watering-hole from his presence. Bedtime for Mr. Wiggles...

And that, my friends, was The Tale of the Drunken Monkey...


  1. Your discerning eye and potent aptitude for situational deduction has truly made you an exemplar zoologist.