The Biggest Monkey

It was a sunny day. I had been ambling about downtown, drinking a mocha frappucino with whipped cream on top, and not doing much of
anything.
I decided that I must head homewards, for I had a pair of shorts that needed patching and pie that needed eating. However, as the hot weather would not permit me to walk home without much toil, I came to the decision that I would call home for a ride up the hill.
And so, I found myself searching the parking lot belonging to 7-11 for a quarter with which I would make my phone call. My search yielded nothing except a few gum wrappers, broken straws, and cigarette butts.
I walked over to the 7-11 building, and sat down beneath the dusty pay phone and the peeling "NO LOITERING" sign. "Perhaps," I thought, "perhaps someone will come by and I can ask them for a quarter."
I sat, and I sat, and I sat some more. Although people went in and out the door, no one passed directly by me and I didn't feel ambitious enough to run after anyone to solicit a quarter. However, I didn't mind waiting, as watching the traffic on the Trans-Canada proved mildly interesting and a nice cool wind had started blowing.
A few minutes passed, and the wind decided to be a little more violent. My hair began to thrash in the throes of the air current, and as I spat out a thick chunk of hair that had covered my eyes and been snapped into my mouth, I saw a man, probably around thirty, shambling up the parking lot from Kentucky Fried Chicken.
The man stopped to talk to someone sitting in an SUV a few parking spaces away from where I sat. I watched him as he gesticulated madly and hopped from foot to foot, spraying spittle in several directions with every loud phrase he uttered. After a few minutes of watching him, I decided he was either on drugs or mentally retarded.
The car drove away, and the man, evidently finished his conversation, began walking towards me. I raised my head and made eye contact - what a mistake. He grinned widely and came to stand in front of me.
"Whatcha sittin' there for? Need a cigarette or somethin'?" he asked, already digging in his stained pocket.
"No, it's okay," I told him, and he flashed his yellow teeth again.
"Mind if I sit down beside ya?"
"Uhhhhhh..." But it was too late. He had already plunked his ass right down beside mine, leaving me no room to inch away to my left, where the pay phone blocked me.
"So, uh... what are you doing?" I asked. Maybe if I talked to him for a bit, he'd go away...
"Oh, y'know, nothin' much. Did some drugs, yeah, should be comin' down soon, should be comin' down, but I'm still feelin' awright. What YOU doin'?"
"I'm watching cars. So what are you on?"
"Oh, yeah, y'know, I like the coke, I like the co-caine m'self," he said, confirming my suspicions.
"I thought you might. I like mushrooms," said I, trying to be civil.
"Oh, yeah, they got some good ones in this town, y'know, nice ones, nice long stems." I nodded, and he lapsed into silence. I could feel his eyes searching me, and I shuddered inwardly.
"That's a nice ring you got there," the man said.
"Which one?" I asked, splaying the fingers on my hand and gesturing at my face and ears.
"The only one I can see. The one under your lip."
"Oh. Thanks. I did it myself."
"You're lookin' good. How d'ya do it? Yer all pretty here, sittin' on the ground beside me. Y'know, yeah, well... t'be honest, y'know, I'd like to... y'know. You're sittin' here all sexy an' dark an' I just wanna get my hands on you, y'know. I bet you'd let me give you a poke, now, wouldn't ya?"
At this point, my mind went something like "AHHHHHHHH!" but I managed to say quite calmly, "No, I have a boyfriend."
"I bet if we were on an island, yeah, an island, y'know, you'd do it with me. I bet ya would."
"I don't think so. No, I wouldn't. I'd rather get drugged up and climb a tree or something."
"Ah, but there're no drugs on that island. Only bananas. The biggest monkey eats the most bananas!" he exclaimed, and collapsed into laughter. "THE BIGGEST MONKEY EATS THE MOST BANANAS!" he shrieked at a random passerby, a middle-aged woman. I shrugged, somewhat embarrassed, and she hurried away.
The man finished with his spell of white-powder laughter, and cleared his throat. "So, ya want me to buy you a drink? We could go somewhere, y'know, get smashed."
"Erm, no thanks, I'm... waiting."
"Waiting for what? C'mon, let's go have some fun."
I breathed a sigh of relief as a crackwhore-looking woman walked up to us, preventing me from having to say anything more.
"Got yer car fixed?" he asked the woman, apparantly an acquaintance of his.
"Naw, it's not fixed, but it's runnin'," said the woman.
"I was just talkin' here with this pretty girl, but she don't wanna do nothin'. The biggest monkey eats the most bananas. Ya wanna get
drunk or somethin'?"
"Sure," said the woman, and the man got up to leave.
"You just sit here, beautiful like that. I gotta go, do somethin', y'know." He brushed off his pants and straightened. As an afterthought, he added: "I love you." He reached down and touched my hair, and I flinched, hitting my head against the brick building. As he turned to go, the crackwhore woman already ahead of him, I remembered something.
"Hey," I said. "You got a quarter?"
"Yeah." He grinned and tossed a loonie at me, and left.
I stood up, and dialed my number on the telephone. As the loonie slid into the cash chamber with a satisfying clunk, I thought, "What a weird way to make seventy-five cents."
I finished my call, and stuck a couple of fingers in the coin door. Nothing was inside, and I sighed as my eyes followed the line on the telephone box that informed me that this particular unit did not give out change.
"Oh well," I mused, "it's the thought that counts."