Look at this cute lil’ baby Monkey! His name is Manny, and Friend got to hold him as we strolled down the street Saturday night looking for ice cream. My mans on the far left tried to use Manny to con us out of $20USD for a crappy, poorly lit photo with our own phones.
As the monkey clung to Friend’s chest for dear life and she almost melted with tears and maternal instinct, I kept watch over the dark streets around us and the fast-talking shyster.
Who did I feel sorry for more – the shyster or this pitiful animal that somebody bred or plucked from a treetop monkey nest and stole from its mama? I’d say the monkey. But I guess that makes me a blazing hypocrite, since I myself “own” a furry pet who was taken from its mother’s bosom at birth and sold into animal slavery. But I digress…
A heavy set security guard at the hotel across the street walked over to us as soon as the Monkey Man approached. He wasn’t aggressive either. Just eased in and acted like he was also fascinated by the baby monkey. I appreciated that.
In the end, I won’t knock your hustle, but you won’t hustle me.
“Sir, you gone take these 2 Bajan bucks I got, stop hypnotizing Friend, and call it a deal. Now will you kindly peel your monkey up off her chest and gone bout your business so she can stop begging me to cough up $20 for more pics and monkey time?”
We saw the Monkey Man again later that night, several miles away, at the party spot. By then he had jacked up the price and was tryna get some of our Gringo brethren to pay $150USD for the monkey-and-me pics.
Smh. And the beat goes on.