Lordy! He Looks Like Albert!

Lordy! He Looks Like Albert!1

In my late twenties my vacations were arranged around Trade seminars. We loaded the camper on the pick-up and stayed at KOA's, or the car and hotels if money was more abundant. Once we were returning home from Knoxville, Tennessee and saw a large bill board in Nashville or Memphis to "Come see our baby Gorilla!" My two young boys enthusiastically agreed that a visit was a good idea and we spent the rest of the day at the zoo. It was grand, and I enjoyed interacting with the animals. When we finally reached the primate house at the rear of the zoo, we entered to be greeted by young master G- swinging on a hand rail and giving his milk bottle fits. He made eye contact and little else, and so I was soon bored... and turned around to spy Mr. and Mrs. Orangutan.2

It was a very large well lit one room flat, with occasional roof supports. The right rear appeared to be the dining area, and the Mrs. busied herself arranging and rearranging the broccoli, carrots, pears, watermelon and other goodies on a low table. She appeared cowed, stooped shoulders, sneaking quick nervous glances toward Lord O. He lounged spread legged against the center most support, scratching his ample belly with both hands as he surveyed the steady stream of tall primates, paraded past him for his personal enjoyment. He seemed to enjoy their more colorful costumes, and seeing lots of skin.3

Recognizing oppression when I see it, I crouch swaggered directly in front of Lord O., and bark grunted at him, followed by a few hoots, punctuated by vigorous chest thumping. He was not impressed. He did make eye contact, however. I moved right, waved at the Mrs., and blew kisses. Lord O. raised his hand in a clumsy but recognizable phallic salute. My Mrs., and the two sons said, "See ya dad! Don't want to be ya!" and disappeared to visit the rest of the primates. I hooted, bark grunted and thumped, then blew kisses until I noticed a port hole window near the kitchen area. Walking to the right, I found a dark corridor leading past the window. I skittered down and tapped on the glass, and she rushed right over. We both planted wet kisses on the Plexiglas; I was air kissing an Orangutan. I was trying to focus on her chocolate brown eyes, when long fingers slid up through her orange beard, twisted and her face jerked away. Lord O. planted a kiss right on her mouth and with his free hand, backhanded the window in a mighty smash!4

He waddled back to his central post, took a bored look around, leaned back, settled, spread legs and started scratching his stomach. The Mrs. returned to the table, busied herself, but cast longing glances my way. I tapped and kissed away, but she wouldn't come. Her eyes pleaded, "But he just won't get a job!"5

The main doors swung open, and I panicked; wondering if surveillance cameras recording my harassment were going to get me into trouble with the staff. I held my breath, but was relieved to see a single very large African American woman enter. I decided to hunker down and wait, not wishing to give her suspicions of my dark corridor activity. She bent low over young Master Gorilla, studied him and slowly stood up and shivered. "Lordy! He looks just like Albert!" she exclaimed, and left the building, not so much as glancing at the orangutans or any other of the primates. I pinched my nose, and tried not to pee my pants and waited for the door to click before I fell over in stitches of laughter. I still wonder who Albert is, and wish that I could get a good look at him!6