Gorilla, Continued
Two days after I posted the Gorilla thing, Amazon said I might be interested in an Adult Plus One-Piece Silver Lilly Gorilla Costume for $45.99. It’s
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FULL OF FUN DETAILS - These eye-catching gorilla onesies feature a hood with a goofy face and shock of hair for full effect. Match with a pair of animal slippers (not included) for your next pajama party!
COMFY & COZY - A special blend of comfort and fun, these plush materials are soft to the touch and will keep you warm during those cold winter months. The zip up closure allows you to quickly get dressed while the loose fit gives you the flexibility to easily wear over your existing clothes or jacket.
Perfect for any occasion!
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No, it’s not. My gorilla costume would not feature a goofy face, it would have the face of a gorilla, and why would I need to be kept warm during those cold winter months? I wouldn’t wear it more than once. Amazon may be able to read our minds, but it does not understand us. If you must picture it, think King Kong, five foot six.
The occasion? A party of some sort. I’m not a partygoer, so the details are vague. Maybe a reception. Or a corporate event, whatever in god’s name that is. Yes, that would be best. A corporate event fraught with corporate people and hard liquor and bizarre finger food. Cheesy buffalo capon bombs, mini feta-truffle crisps, aioli-cosseted shrimp loin, whatever these people eat. There is pitiful dancing to music provided by an excellent and clearly dispirited jazz band, paid to submit graciously to inane audience requests. Freebird, Stairway to Heaven, Uptown Girl, whatever. Sometimes I’m with somebody, sometimes alone, and what I’m doing at the event is beside the point anyway. Emboldened by profound tedium, I slip off to some empty room and don my gorilla suit. I never bother with how it got there.
When I appear on the scene I’m hardly noticed, probably because people are drunk and miserable, but that’s fine, I’m not here for them. I approach the band; its members regard me with gratitude, as though, finally, a serious person. I request a song.
The request changes from time to time. Sometimes it’s whatever’s playing on my car radio, doesn’t have to be quality. Even the Macarena would work. But mostly it’s a tango, La Cumpersita.
My dance—Since I know nothing about dance I can’t describe it in detail, which is too bad, but my performance is terrific. At first it’s solo, with grand expansive moves, my long arms, my entire body creating visual music with each step, each gesture. Then I grab somebody, man or woman, doesn’t matter, and we really tango. We slide and arch our backs and pause stock-still like statues. I fall at least once, as though on purpose. We knock lots of things over, tables and trays of capon bombs, no one stops us. Maybe the audience loves it, maybe not, the only audience that matters is the band. They are all so happy.
My body is invisible, brilliant. I am perfectly free, for as long as the music lasts, which is sometimes a very long time. When it ends, I disappear.
That’s it.
I’ve had many fantasies in my life, often involving time-jumping, hair-raising rescues, winning debates with jerks, but the gorilla dance is the best. I share it now only because it’s too late for me to do it. But if you find yourself inspired, and you want to give it a go in the real world, please let me know about the time and place. If I don’t have to fly, I’ll be there.
It just might happen.
It's never too late to don the Gorilla suit. I heartily encourage you to do it. Wear it to one of Ed's gigs but don't tell him you're coming. I would absolutely go with you and wear a matching suit.