It’s funny, but I think I can relate. It’s hard to count just how many times I’ve walked out into my back yard and had to ask myself “Is that my wife swinging through the trees, or just another monkey?” Many-a-time I have my trusty shotgun in hand in case those horrid creatures are picking my apples (that would be the monkey, not my wife).
I can sympathize with this guy. When I see a hominid in the yard, standing on a ladder, reaching for fruit, I too get the blood-lust. Adrenaline courses through my veins, causing me to ignore the fact that I know this creature standing in the trees. My rational mind may be, in fact, fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with her. When thinking correctly, I have her size and shape, her hair, her clothing all memorized. Her every movement and action is imprinted in my mind. But none of that matters if there is a possiblity of a monkey in the trees. Gone goes my senses, and up comes the shotgun.
Your world ends when you realize that you’ve actually just shot your wife.
However, when you do nab a monkey out of the trees…man, they are good eatin’!
The poor slob in the article needs to get his eyeglass prescription renewed. Do you think they do that kind of thing in his local penitentiary?