Girls and Monkeys. Spot the Difference.
Some places have rat, cockroach or maybe ant infestations. My college has monkeys.
For as long as I can remember, since staying in this college, we’ve been plagued by this problem almost daily. Nothing can be done to appease the voracious appetite of these violent monkeys, and nothing can be done about them frolicking in the beautiful, lush garden of newly washed clothes fresh from the clotheslines.
I don’t know, but I don’t mind it as much. I like these monkeys.
They’re not too violent, most of them, but today I was made to change my mind when we heard the most terrifying, ear-splitting, ten seconds scream in the history of my being here. Truth be told, they can be violent, provoked or not. At intermittent intervals, you would hear the errant scream or two, not a few of them blood-curdling.
It’s a frighteningly scary incident.
…As long as it doesn’t happen to you.
Since they’re hanging around near the trash cans which are very strategically placed by the bathroom/showers, they’re always chasing those going in and out to do their business. So, you can sometimes see girls covering their modesty with only towels flailing about wildly, their meagre pieces of clothing dangling precariously on their bodies as the monkeys, probably attracted by the fruit-scented shampoos and soaps, chase them ruthlessly with just a hint of a lascivious glint in their eyes.
Also, thanks to that, you do get unexpected visitors now and then.
Which, of course, gives us plenty of opportunities to exchange boisterous pleasantries and/or silent profanities. It never ceases to amuse, especially since our room is the closest to the bathroom. My favourite part is of course, when they rush head on into our room, one hand gingerly holding up a towel to their naked bodies, toiletries in the other with, get this; complete, utter, incomprehensible fear in their eyes.
Fear. Towards an animals 1/8th of your size, with no history of an actual, injurious attack towards humans in this area, probably just lounging around the trash cans and not giving scant attention to you (Which is usually the scenario anyhow).
I so get that.
I have been chased before though, but that’s probably because I was trying to chase them away. My roommate, Mai, actually got chased the length of the corridor spanning approximately 5 rooms. But the way she runs is so funny even I’d chase her for longer than that. I guess the monkeys and I share the same kind of humour.
Besides, it’s okay what. They help us exercise what.
The one thing that I do dislike them for is the fact that playing with freshly laundered clothes seems to be their favourite pastime.
God knows how many times we’ve had to re-wash our clothes or dispose of them completely. And washing clothes means HAND WASHING them, mind. I’d be the minion of Satan under an interminable contract if it meant having a washing machine around. I can send my clothes to the laundry, but that means having to walk all the way from one block to another (3 minutes walk, people! Know how tiring that is?!) with heavy clothes in tow and having to pay RM1.60 per kg.
…Okay maybe I’m just a pathological cheapskate.
But then, the monkeys do commit acts that you may find endearing.
It’s hard to stay angry at them. They can be as cute as kitties, even. Speaking of which, we do have well-fed cats loitering about. I can’t wait to watch a monkey vs cat showdown one day. I’m rooting for the one with opposable thumbs!
And if you’re wondering what the mad hatter scream we heard earlier was all about, Kak AD, who just happened to be around the vicinity of the toilet, told us all the gory and frightening details. I don’t think I’ll be able to rest easy now.
Sometimes, I swear. It’s the girls. Not the monkeys.
…And there goes another scream.
GO GET ‘EM, MONKEYS!