Okay, so if you don’t know the song I’m referring to, you should go and listen to it now. Yes, it’s a bit crass. But it is a total crack up. Especially the bit about the “business socks.” Really. You’ll likely laugh your… something off… But if you don’t, you will at least crack a smile. If you don’t crack a smile, I believe you will have very probably confirmed your status as a stick-in-the-mud. Sorry. But it’s just dang funny, okay?
So, I had mentioned that at the zoo the other day there was a certain male giraffe that had some serious ulterior motives going on. He was cuddling and shmoozing his way with the lady in question like there was no tomorrow. It was like watching Joey on Friends hitting on any number of nameless chicks. I could almost hear the bull giraffe asking, “Whatchyoo Doin’?” in an unmistakably Joey Tribbiani voice.
I mean, can’t you just hear him?
So yeah. This bull giraffe was all about business.
I think he may have been wearing his business socks. They must have been camouflaged or something though ’cause we couldn’t really see them. But I’m sure he was wearing them. He was all about the business at hand. He decided to take the very forward approach and be as masculine and chest-beating as he could; and considering that he couldn’t beat his chest, I think he played the role fairly convincingly.
And she… well, she was not too terribly concerned with his apparent conviction that Monday morning in front of a gawking crowd of onlookers was a good time for business time. Sure, business hours for the zoo include Monday mornings with crowds of gawking onlookers but lady giraffes seem to be harder to convince.
He thought maybe she was getting into the idea…
But then it became quite clear that she was just there for the food.
The disappointment he felt was tangible.
He had read her lips. Her beautiful furry lips.
He knew that she had been crying. He could tell by her runny nose and the look in her eye.
It was at that point that he knew something was wrong. He decided to change tactics. He knew she just needed to be close to him… she just needed a little bit of affection.
He began to circle her, as if inviting her to dance.
She was unresponsive.
He nuzzled up against her to let her know that he cared about whatever was upsetting her. He rubbed his head on the nape of her neck. Surely she would respond in kind. What woman can resist a man nuzzling his head against the nape of her neck?
And yet, she remained unmoved.
She ate some more. She was eating as some sort of coping mechanism, he was quite sure.
He relented not.
The lady, however, would not be prevailed upon. It became clear that she was in fact the more bull-headed of the two of them.
And as I studied the situation, I discovered the real problem. It was her self-esteem. She was depressed about her cellulite.
And yet her solution was emotional eating which served only to further entrench her in a hopeless vortex of self-denial and body dysmorphia. Her neighbor, the hippo, would repeatedly tell her that she, in fact, was the tallest, slenderest and most graceful creature at the zoo but she would not hear it.
And she made it her life goal to eat herself into oblivion, gorging herself on carrot sticks and leaves,
leaving her disappointed suitor to wallow in his own feelings of dejectedness and rejectedness.
However, he maintained, always, that he still had his pride.
But we all knew better.
And so we see, yet again, that a day at the zoo is not only educational, it is in fact the stuff that novels are made of. We find also that, just as Alan Thicke has always told us, “Animals are people too.” Or something like that. Yeah.