Animals Are More Us Than We Are

While Thomas was moping in a wine bar, feeling sorry that no one gave a toss about his books, someone else felt sorry for him also, and asked what the matter was. Well, she asked if he could move to another table because he was making her friends uncomfortable. The wine bar was busy and had that warm scent of headiness that spilt wine affords and its patrons were trendy and laughing. Except for Thomas, who was neither.

With a forlorn sigh, Thomas dragged himself from the table, put on his trousers and removed the dental floss he’d tied to one of the young women as a means for striking up conversation with her later. He apologised to them collectively, before asking if they wanted a drink, as he’d seen this happen in films. They showed him their glasses, asked if he was blind and told him to get lost. He did so, but not before retrieving his floss. It got tangled in the girl’s hair, unfortunately, which was shiny, blonde and almost certainly cost more than he did. After getting it tangled in her ear-ring and tearing her lobe, he asked whether she’s mind if he left it there. She said no—or at least he assumed it was no—certainly it involved the same number of syllables. He did so and turned to leave. But it’s difficult to appear suave after weakening someone’s ear. When he sat heavily at another table, the girls rose to leave, their arms around the one bleeding and throwing him glares that resembles nothing of a ‘come hither’ look. The complete opposite, actually. One of them, the one who’d told him to leave in the first place, returned to throw her drink at him. Which he’d have accepted magnanimously had she not included the glass as well. Holding his face, he told her he was sorry for spilling her drink, and would she like another one? She told him to get screwed, leaving him to ask whether that was an official invitation and whether her friends were included.

Although this hasn’t much to do with animals, it is worth recounting for educational purposes, nonetheless.