baboons

Where I grew up there were a lot of baboons.
I didn’t like baboons because they were aggressive, loud and always sticking their red butts in your face. I guess they were just territorial. Mine! Mine! Mine! Every inch of space must be disputed. A lot of energy for, most often, nothing.

At work there is a guy named Jack. He is big and loud and pretends I don’t exist. When I talk to a nice woman at work named Cathy( I think she likes to talk to me because she will smile) Jack walks over and stands with his back to me and talks to her. I think it is mean to pretend someone doesn’t exist. If he ever acknowledges me, it is to roll his eyes at something I said ( I'm certain “that’s the way the cookie crumbles” is a common phrase people say.)

I don’t understand this kind of mean. When monkeys hate each other they jump up and down and scream. I guess Jack is just a different kind of baboon. My mum would say that they are just more territorial than me and don’t let it bother me but I’m sick of them sticking their red butts in my face.

I'm sorry to be kind of mad today. I will be a happy monkey tomorrow ;o)