“What in hell was that? Was that a monkey?” I asked.
“Of course, it was a monkey,” my friend Bob replied. “You’re in Costa Rica and this country is full of monkeys.”
Sherry and I had finally gotten away for a three-day weekend. At the jungle resort where we stayed, I met Bob, from the U.S. who had been there for a week. We were kicking it back at poolside and drinking a few afternoon beers together when the monkey suddenly raced across the deck, grabbed my drink and sprinted for the jungle.
“I’m going to catch that monkey and teach him a lesson,” I said, as I jumped from my chair.
“Oh, sit back down,” Bob said. “All you’re going to do is get frustrated and lose your dignity. A man cannot chase a monkey in a dignified manner. Besides, you couldn’t catch him.”
“I suppose you could.”
“I wouldn’t try because it’s not worth my time and it’s undignified,” he replied. “Back in the U.S. I am a bank president and a deacon in my church. Chasing a monkey would only make me look and feel stupid and I refuse to stoop to the level of a monkey.”
Suddenly, the monkey sprang from the hibiscus bushes by the deck, grabbed my sunglasses and took off. I leaped over the deck railing and went after him. Just as I was on the point of catching him, we came to a construction site for another resort. The monkey jumped into a long pipe lying on the ground and I followed. I got stuck in it but the monkey popped out the other end and crept up behind me. He grabbed a stick and beat my ass like a schoolteacher. Then he started throwing stones at me and it seemed like I would never get unstuck.
When I came walking back to the pool Bob asked, “How did it go?”
I didn’t say a word as I eased myself down into the deck chair.
“Ah-ha,” Bob said. “He took you to the construction site, didn’t he?”
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