I think I need to slow my life down a little. Chill more. Stop stressing because of the lack of time I have to do everything.
And yet I crave emotional and intellectual connections so I spread myself thin over the company of my friends, who inspire me and fascinate me. I'm beginning to think the only way to get all the company of inspiration I need, along with the quiet life, is to take up residence in a commune with all of them. If anyone knows of a large piece of land with a huge mansion on it, not too far away from everything but still quiet, going for cheap... let me know.

Monkey Maids: or, the Roommate/Primate Experiment; Pt. 5

I woke up at 10:00, confused that I hadn’t been awakened by the morning calls of the monkeys. Maybe I’d been drunker than I thought last night. But still, the apartment seemed quiet. Even when they were sleeping there was usually some noise from the monkeys, snoring or scratching or just moving around in their sleep. Something was wrong. The feeling in my gut told my brain it was true.

I bolted upward and threw open the bedroom door. The tamarin squeaked from the pillow as harsh light poured in from the living room, where the bay window let in the morning light. I was blinded for a moment by the brightness, and surprised; the living room windows were usually curtained. When I lowered my arm, I realized that the curtains had been torn down during the night and one of the windows was smashed out, letting in a flood of light.

And there was blood. All over the walls and the floor and the windows. All over everything. And fur. And the capuchin, and the female spider monkey, sitting alone in the midst of it all, grinning at me and picking the meat off of what I knew from their size and shape had to be the finger bones of the male spider monkey. The capuchin, his face and hands covered in blood, had a firm hold on a very battered and bruised star fruit.

I stared at him for a moment. He was pleased with himself, cooing softly as he held the star fruit over his head to show me. The female spider monkey grinned dully, not so aware of what she had done as her counterpart.

I lost it. “You bastard! You fucking bastard!” The capuchin screeched and jumped to his feet, the star fruit held high. The spider monkey cooed and grinned at me as I launched myself forward, screaming. I caught the capuchin in the jaw, hard, and he flew into the air. The star fruit launched out of his hand, and as if in slow motion, I saw tiny droplets of blood shake loose from his fur.

His head hit the wall behind him, not very hard but hard enough to hurt. He slumped down onto the carpet and rubbed his head, looking confused. The female spider monkey whimpered and looked from him to me and back again. Then, very slowly, she reached out and picked up the star fruit from where it had fallen. When the capuchin didn’t pay any attention, too busy rubbing his head and deciding what to do, she quietly moved to the window sill and started to eat it.

The capuchin looked up at me with wide eyes, scratched its head again, and got to his feet. He looked around for a moment, then stumped over to me dizzily and wrapped his arms around my legs. The tamarin on my shoulder gibbered wildly and climbed onto my head, desperate to get away from the stink of murder. I looked down at the capuchin.

“Why would you do that, man? All of them? All of them? Even the little cute ones? I can’t believe you, man. The star fruit’s not worth it!” With that I gestured toward the star fruit, which was quickly disappearing into the spider monkey’s mouth. The capuchin followed my hand with his eyes, noticing the smell of the fruit between her teeth. Immediately, he lost his composure. With a terrible squeal he let go of my now blood-stained legs and tore across the room to the windowsill.

The spider monkey hooted wildly and stuffed the rest of the fruit into her mouth, then, in a motion far defter than I thought a concussed monkey could perform, she jumped through the hole in the window and was gone, no doubt in a mirror of how some of the others had escaped the blood-bath inside. The capuchin screamed and jumped out after her, into the mid-day sunshine.
I heard a noise from behind me and turned to see Liz and the squirrel monkey standing still in the doorway to the living room. Liz’s mouth and eyes were wide open and the monkey was shaking in terror on her shoulder, the carnage spread out on the floor between us like a furry red carpet.

I looked down at my blood-smeared legs, then back up at Liz. We stood, staring at each other and blinking in the sunlight, barefoot, with our last two monkeys on our shoulders.

Monkey Maids: or, the Roommate/Primate Experiment, Pt. 4

That day went beautifully. I fielded all the calls for “Party Primates” and Liz got to know the animals. She took a particular shine to the squirrel monkey, which was good since he sometimes seemed a little left out during grooming. She spent most of the day with him on her shoulder and had taught him how to feed her blueberries by evening grooming. We gave out snacks to keep them busy for a while and set to work on the evening toilette. It went a lot faster with two people – I washed them up and Liz blew-dry and styled them. We had everyone ready to go before the first customer showed up; not bad, considering we had seven paying gigs that night. Things were looking rosy.

We went to the store for more fruit and got ourselves a few bottles of wine to celebrate. On the walk back to the apartment, Liz suddenly regressed. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. This is insane. It can’t possibly work.”

"Why not? Think about it: the monkeys are really happy – there weren’t even any fights today. I’m happy having the monkeys around. They’re making us money. It’s beautiful.”

She nodded. “It kind of is. But. It’s too beautiful. I mean, what if they get into a shit-flinging contest while we’re at the store? What if the macaque decides to pick a fight with the tamarin? They’ll all go... well… apeshit. Not to mention the absolute certainty that we’re going to get caught. I mean...” She looked at me, and there was no anger in her eyes. Just that bald look she gave me sometimes, that completely unguarded trust in me. Very disquieting. I appreciated it but she never seemed able to keep it on her face for very long.

I shook my head. “Ok, first of all, shit flinging is just a myth. Monkeys only fling shit if they have nothing else at hand, and only if they’re agitated. If we make sure to spend as much time with them as possible and work for the peace of the group, no flinging needs to happen. After a while they’ll learn to behave even when we’re not around. You’ll see, they’re smart. And they want to please us. They’re all so happy to be out of the lab that as long as we make these first few weeks good for them – we’re home free. They’ll love us forever. And hey, it’s a big city. We’ll be fine. People get away with crazier shit than this every day.”

She scoffed. “Crazier shit than keeping seventeen monkeys of all shapes and sizes, illegally, in a two bedroom apartment? I don’t know about that.” Doubt had crept into her expression, but still, there was no anger. Once again it was a deep weariness that I’d only begun to see on her face over the past month or so.

“Seriously, Liz, I’m not making this up: last week I read about a guy who was arrested for keeping a fourteen foot alligator in his studio. He’d had it with him for eight years. We don’t have any fourteen foot monkeys. We’ll be fine.”

Her eyes switched into frustrated glare and she shifted her grocery bag to her left hand. “No, but we do have seventeen less-than-fourteen foot monkeys, all of whom make a lot of noise and who have opposable thumbs. One of these days that macaque is going to figure out doorknobs and walk outside.” She shifted the bag again. “This fruit is really fucking heavy. My hand hurts.”

“Let’s stop walking for a minute. Take a breather,” I said, setting down my fruit and massaging my hands, then reaching over and grabbing hers. She started to pull away but then sighed and looked up at me. Her eyes were tired. “Look, Liz. I understand your reservations. I do. But I’ve thought about all of this and I still think it’s a really good idea. I think it’s going to be great.”

She looked down at the sidewalk for a minute and when she looked back up, the weariness had been joined by mournful, closed off expression that meant trouble. “You thought us moving in together would be great, too.”

We stared at each other for a minute. I said nothing. That look meant I’d be an asshole no matter what I said to her, and probably if I didn’t say anything, too. I waited.

“And that hasn’t exactly turned out like a bowl of cherries." She turned to pick up her bag again. "I don't need to tell you that your judgment about what we can do together is sometimes off,” she finally said.

“But we have a bowl full of cherries now,” I said with a grin, hefting my bag of fruit and pointing to the cherries. “And… I didn’t think things were all that bad,” I couldn't help adding, my stomach hurting as if I'd been punched.

She pursed her lips. “Well, here’s hoping,” she said as we began to walk. She held her breath for a minute, then studiously looked away. “And we’re not going to be able to have people over anytime we want anymore, either. Who knows what the monkeys would do if one of us showed up with a stranger late at night.”

I hadn’t really thought about it, but now I nodded.

“So, I guess…” she trailed off, still looking away. “No more strange girls in the house. Just us and the monkeys. At least for a while...” She let the sentence fade into silence.

I didn’t know what to say, so we walked home in silence.

* * * * * *

I had no idea that star fruit was such a favorite with primates, but they went nuts over it. The capuchin ended up clubbing the female spider monkey with it after he’d wrestled it out of her hands, at which point the male spider monkey jumped on the capuchin’s back and started screeching and scratching at his face. I had to pull him off and spend the next hour holding him while Liz cuddled the female. The capuchin forgot about it immediately and picked his nose for a good fifteen minutes before Liz slipped in and took the star fruit away. He didn’t even notice, but we decided that star fruit would be nixed from the shopping list thence forth, just to be safe.

After all the paying gigs came home that night, Liz and I got drunk on wine and groomed everybody, then each other, with much giggling. Our spat from the afternoon seemed to be forgotten, but I caught that tired look on her face a few times between fits of laughter. We schemed about all the jungle gym equipment we would buy for the monkeys and the furniture we’d buy ourselves. We play wrestled and tried again to teach the macaque how to use the toilet. Liz fed the marmoset a little wine and we laughed when he dozed off next to the bottle. We finally fell asleep around 2:00 on the couch. I woke up at 4:00 and got Liz and the squirrel monkey into her bed before heading back to my room with the tamarin. Things were great. Everything was perfect.

Jenelle sent me this bit of interesting insights into Obama, via a detailed breakdown of his zodiac chart. Very interesting, even if you don't believe in astrology. From http://www.yogatech.com/:

BARACK OBAMA

Here are a few more observations about Barack Obama's birth chart.

DEEP PRESENTATION TO THE WORLD - Obama has Scorpio on the midheaven ortop of his chart, indicating that he presents himself to the world ina deep penetrating way. No fluffy winks for Obama. During his campaigna major theme was - If we focus on superficialities, gaffs andmud-slinging, nothing will ever change. If we get honest, we have achance to build a better America and a better world. He also hasNeptune in Scorpio in the ninth house, indicating that only profoundtruth will deliver us out of our illusions. The ninth house representsspirituality and foreign travel. He called for mending our foreignalliances in his acceptance speech. He is going to have work to do getAmerica out of its foreign policy illusions.

SERVICE - Obama's chart is focused on service. His Mars and Pluto arein Virgo. Mars indicates where we use our energy. Virgo is service,attention to details and hard work. Obama's Sun and Mercury, both inLeo are in the sixth house of Virgo and service.

RELATIONSHIPS ARE IMPORTANT - Obama has Uranus and North Node in Leoand Pluto and Mars in Virgo in the seventh house - the house ofrelationships. Uranus in Leo can create surprises from the heart. The North Node in Leo is new territory for Obama - he is learning how tobe heart-centered in his relationships.

AQUARIAN SPIRIT - Obama's Ascendant, South Node and Jupiter are inAquarius. He sees the world from Aquarian eyes. The South Noderepresents gifts he came in with - he holds strong an Aquarian spirit.Jupiter is what expands us and leads us into the future. His missionis to help bring in the Aquarian Age.

SATURN TESTS - Obama's Saturn is in Capricorn. It is not surprisingthat his Saturn trials and tests relate to social and economicstructures.

SOMETIMES ALOOF AND DEEPLY INWARD - Once in a while we get that warmLeo smile from our new President. But often he may seem aloof.Aquarius is a mental sign and one of the most aloof of the zodiac.Aquarius is connecting with the universal mind to try to pull in newsolutions and answers to collective problems. With both Jupiter andSaturn in the twelfth house of Pisces, more is going on inside Obamathan we can observe. He is constantly reflecting and connecting withhigher energies and wisdom.

PLAYFUL SPIRIT - Obama's Gemini Moon gives him a playful spirit, alove of people and a gift of communication. He is always on the move.His Venus in Cancer is in the fifth house of Leo fun. Venus in Cancermeans that what he loves is his family, his home, the Mother Earth andhis country.

HEART-CENTERED - As mentioned above, Obama's Sun, Mercury, Uranus andNorth Node are in Leo. Leo has a big heart, an ability to self-focusand a very brilliant aura. He is going to need all for the dauntingtask ahead.

Great day, and Obama Info

I'll post twice today. Because today is just that awesome. And although I'm trying not to make this a blog about personal experiences so much as a sounding board for my fantastic brain, today has just been so good that I want to share it with everyone who reads this. ...whoever that may be.

1) Firstly, this morning on my way to work I managed to get on a 5 train that came: 1) as soon as I got into the station, and 2) was not excessively crowded. It was a miracle.

2) Then, when I got off that train, I walked across 58th Street toward my office. Between Madison and 5th I noticed some people uncoiling some wires and setting up lights on the sidewalk, so I knew something was being filmed. Then I saw an old-fashioned yellow cab that was obviously part of a set. Then I saw a trailor that was lit up on the inside, and a girl I didn't recognize sitting at the window looking out.

3) And then... I think I saw... NPH!!! No shit! I think I saw Neil Patrick Harris inside signing something. I'm not 100% sure it was him, because I really only saw the top part of his face, but that forehead is rather distinct. I didn't want to stand around gawking because I had to get to work and I didn't want to get kicked off the set or anything, but... yeah I think it was him. If anyone knows about him being in NYC for any reason, let me know, cause I don't want to go hang around for no reason. But if it's him... well... a picture MUST happen.

4) I just got a raise! I don't know how much it will be for just yet, because in the gallery we just go ask the Big Scary French Boss for a raise, and he just says yes or no. And then he goes and "discusses" it with the administrator, which is probably a conversation that goes: "Give ze young lady at ze recepsion desk a raise-uh, 'Elmreech." "Ok, Pierre." So I'll find out on my next few paychecks what kind of raise we're talking about. But no matter what, more money = good. And when I asked, he said, "Of course-uh, I weel gif you a raise wis pleazure. I weel talk to Mr. 'Elmreech." And he SMILED. A very good sign.

5) Because it's Veteran's Day there is a street fair right outside on 56th street, so I just got to go out for lunch and have corn on the cob, a crepe, and bubble tea for lunch! Of course this cost way more than it should have and now my hands are frozen from trying to eat a crepe outside in 45 degree weather, but it sure was more fun to watch a Veteran's Day parade during my lunch hour instead of grumbling about tourists in the park.

More story tomorrow...

Monkey Maids: or, the Roommate/Primate Experiment, pt. 3

The fruit was a wild success. Everybody enjoyed the mangoes, particularly, and there was no fighting over them since there were plenty to go around. The lesbians had apparently had a blast with the spider monkey, and Daisy promised when she brought him back that they’d definitely be using my service for more events. Even the numbnuts who rented the golden lion tamarin seemed happy with his purchase, if a little drunk, when he came back. Luckily the monkey wasn’t drunk – if he ingested more than half a shot, he’d probably have gone into cardiac arrest, and I’d have been heartbroken.

I had a few beers before bed and ended up trying to teach the squirrel monkey how to use the toilet to no avail. He made a bit of a mess but was nice enough to help clean it up. We all went outside for a bathroom break at 2:00, and I contemplated just using diapers around the clock to avoid being noticed by the neighbors. Around 2:30 am everyone fell asleep and I noticed a message from Liz: “U sure r in2 monkeys lately. They r ok with cannibalism. Saw it on Animal Planet.”

I gave the tamarin the kiwi and let him sleep on my pillow.

* * * * * *

The next day started at dawn, when hoots and screeches from the kitchen woke me up. Monkeys start their days with a bang; this was taking some getting used to. I tend to wake up early myself, but then lie in bed doing nothing for a few hours before getting out of bed. Most of the time my thoughts fire off randomly and it’s hard for me to concentrate, but in the morning light my brain stays calm and quiet. Monkeys, on the other hand, like to be up with the sun and making as much goddamn noise as possible. Good thing they’re monkeys, and therefore hanging out with them is worth getting up for. I decided to get into the swing of things right today. I was pretty sure most of them had forgotten about the Cheez-Its incident, but I was eager to prove myself friendly to the marmoset, who still seemed suspicious.

When I entered the kitchen, the morning grooming was just getting under way. I settled down with the female spider monkey, who was looking a little more alert, but was still out of it enough to let me groom her without even a murmur of approval. Before long I had the male working through my hair and the capuchin picking at my beard. I was really surprised at how nice it felt – these monkeys knew what they were doing and didn’t pull, just gently picked through it at the roots. I was completely relaxed in a few minutes and found myself working through a second hairy back for a while before I realized it was the marmoset. We seemed to have made peace.
I was thinking about the social importance of grooming in monkey culture given that monkeys born and raised in captivity don’t have many bugs living in their fur, when I heard my phone beep in my pocket. Luckily the sound didn’t disturb the calm mood prevailing in the kitchen, as it fit in with the soft cooing noises going on around me.

Text from Liz: “Just got off plane – c u in 2 hours.”

I looked up at the squirrel monkey, who was looking back at me with a concerned expression. “Shit,” I said out loud. “This place is a mess. The roommate will not want to help us out if she comes home to this. Let’s get going, guys.”

My outburst had brought the grooming to a standstill and all eyes were directed at me. This was going to be fantastic. If only I had 17 tiny aprons…

* * * * * *

An hour later the Great Cleaning was in full swing. I’d started things off badly by trying to get them to scrub the bathroom with Mr. Clean. The fumes went straight to everybody’s heads and things got a little crazy before I got them all into the living room and fresh air. I seemed to have become more or less the pack leader (if groups of monkeys are even called packs. How the hell do I know?). They mimicked most everything I did, if I did it loudly and publicly; by the time I got my next message from Liz I had a working assembly line going on the dishes and another group cleaning up the fruit seeds and pits on the floor. The macaque and the squirrel monkey, more or less the smartest of the bunch, were washing the kitchen floor with water and vinegar to get any last remnants of urine.

Liz’s text read: “Just got on the El. How r the ‘monkeys’?”

“Great,” I wrote back, “they r doing the dishes!”

I got nothing back from her.

By the time I heard Liz coming up the front stairs the Monkey Maids (as I had decided to name our next commercial venture) had cleaned the apartment from top to bottom. I knew she’d be impressed by the shininess of the floor before she noticed the furry shapes scattered around on it. We were grooming again, in the living room this time, to show her how civilized we were.
The entry-way door opened and all grooming stopped for a moment. I didn’t want anyone going crazy when Liz walked in – it’d be the end of everything if she got mauled. So I made a show of continuing to groom the titi monkey to get everyone started again. Everyone relaxed and went on grooming, hardly looking up when the interior door swung open. The tamarin was the only one interested – he jumped onto my shoulder and peered around my head at her.

“Hey,” she said, setting her bag down without looking around. “Man, that El ride was crazy, there was this Bible guy in my car talking about repentance and...” She looked up finally and trailed off. Her face had been flushed from walking with a suitcase already, but I thought I saw her cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. The tamarin squeaked at her inquisitively. I gave him a pat. Her tension was palpable so I tried to keep my energy calm in response – these savages took their cues from me, not her. I’d have to concentrate.

“Leo.” She didn’t say anything else for a long time. She just stared around at the animals, then at me, then at the animals, then at me, and so on. Her eyes were huge, but they didn’t look surprised. They looked… tired. “Leo.”

“Yes, Liz. Hi. It’s good to see you! You look like you got some relaxing in on you vacation. That’s great, cause we have a lot of work to do around here.”

This broke her reverie. Her head snapped into position and the blueness of her eyes startled me. “Leo. There are monkeys. All over the apartment.”

“Yes, Liz.”

”I really thought you were joking. I don’t know why, but I just thought, you know, monkeys? No. Not even Leo would be ridiculous enough to get… How the hell did you even get all these monkeys in here? This is – this can’t be legal! What are they doing here?”

The capuchin was getting tense behind me as she talked. I could feel his fingers moving less nimbly through my hair. The spider monkey looked from me to her and back as if trying to decide who to side with.

“Relax, Liz,” I said quietly. “These monkeys have to be here. I saved them from certain death. The research lab at school got shut down and they had nowhere to send them. So I took them in.”

”What?! Who would just let you – you– just walk off with all these monkeys? We have no license, no training, no facilities, nothing for keeping fucking primates in our fucking apartment!”
She was getting agitated. All grooming had stopped and a few chirps and hoots sounded from the peanut gallery.

“Liz, really, relax. It’s fine. My friend Johannes worked at the lab and he told me they’d be put down if nobody took them. They’re all in good health, no diseases, born and bred in captivity so they love people. They’re smart, too. Look, they cleaned the whole apartment this morning just for you! I taught them how to do the dishes and wash the floor in twenty minutes! And look, they’re so sweet, they’ll even groom you!”

She said nothing but I noticed how tightly clenched her fists were. The titi puffed his cheeks and the marmosets babbled quietly.

“Seriously, Liz, relax,” I said meaningfully. “They’re very sweet, but they’re monkeys. They’re excitable. You should have seen the fight over the Cheez-Its yesterday. We wouldn’t that to happen again.” I spoke slowly to be sure she'd get my point.

She glanced around. All eyes were fastened on her. She looked back at me and I watched her force her body to relax, although her eyes were still murderous. That’s why I like Liz so much, I think. She reacts like most anybody else to strange situations, but she handles herself well.

“Let’s talk about this outside, shall we?” she intoned. “So we don’t upset the monkeys.”

I wanted to argue with her but remembered how important it was to get not only her complacence in this situation, but also her complicity with my plans. I patted the capuchin and squirrel monkeys reassuringly and handed the tamarin to the spider monkey. Their eyes were large and confused. “I’ll be right back, guys.”

We stepped out onto the front stoop and I closed the door quietly behind me. When I turned to Liz she had her arms folded. Not a good sign.

“This is going to be great!” I started. “Fucking monkeys, Liz! They’re ours! They’re so cool! And they love me!”

“Leo!” She threw her hands up. “I don’t even know how to start to tell you what a bad idea this is. How could you even think… I mean… There are so many things wrong with this!”

“Hey, look at the bright side,” I countered. “They’re monkeys.”

“Bright? Sure they’re cute, but, Leo, these are wild animals! I don’t care if they’ve been raised in captivity, they’re fucking monkeys. We don’t have any sort of licensing to keep even one monkey, let alone… however many there are in there!”

“Seventeen,” I provided.

“Seventeen monkeys? Are you crazy? Wait, wait, never mind. What a stupid question. Of course, seventeen, why not? Why not a fucking thousand?”

I said nothing as she collected herself, then started in. ”Hey, in my own defense, I didn’t take all the monkeys from the lab. I know we’re not equipped for large numbers. I didn’t take any apes, just monkeys, although I was tempted by the bonobos. They’re really cool apes, and I thought they could help take care of the dumber monkeys, but then I remembered that their main past-time is having sex with each other and I thought that could go all kinds of wrong. So I turned down all the apes.”

“Oh, great, thanks, Leo,” she said, unfolding her arms and gesticulating wildly with each point she made. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Monkeys are intelligent, high-maintenance animals. They’re like children. They require constant care and supervision. And… and food! And- shit, why do I even have to explain this? How the hell are we going to-”

I cut her off. “Look, I’ve been feeding them two days now. They all eat fruit so it’s really easy. We’ve got plenty of space in the living room, especially if we buy some playground equipment for climbing, or just string up some ropes. We do have to teach them to use the toilet or get diapers, but beyond that they care for themselves! They’re like... like cooperative and sweet and furry children. We can do this.”

”Ok, Leo, ok,” she said, folding her arms again. Back on defense. “Say you’re right and we have no problems with them and everybody in the neighborhood just somehow manages to not notice us raising a clan of primates, and they all love each other like fucking brothers and sisters. How do we afford this? How the hell do we buy a hundred pounds of fruit a day and all the massive amounts of diapers? How do we keep seventeen monkeys on our salaries? Not to even get into the cost of medical care! What if they have babies and then there are more monkeys? How will we diaper and feed an army of monkeys?”

I grinned. “Ok, firstly: there’s only one mating pair in there, and monkeys may be crazy but they don’t have sex with other species. Ok, so no worries on the reproduction thing. And about the money: I have this allll worked out. That ‘army of monkeys’ in there made us $675 last night. Which more than paid for the fruit and the hair product… well, shit, I forgot to buy replacements for the hair products we used… but yeah. $675. In one night.”

She stared at me with very obviously unbelieving eyes.

“Seriously, Liz. I’m renting them. It’s genius! I put an ad up on Craigslist, ‘Monkeys for Hire.’ $75 an hour, or $150 for three hours, or $400 for the whole night. They do parties, bar mitzvahs, professional conferences, fundraisers, charity benefits… pretty much everything. No costumes provided – yet – but if you have one at the event, they’ll wear it. They’ll sit on shoulders and take tips, run drinks or carry hors d'oeuvres, open the door, sit on the piano, just look cute… Whatever you want! And Liz, I mean, I only started advertising yesterday afternoon, and I already made almost $700! This could be huge!”

She stared at me in silence for a moment. Her eyes still said murder, but her arms weren’t crossed. “$675. That’s pretty good. That’s half the rent.”

“Yeah! I’m telling you Liz, it’s great. And man, today they cleaned the apartment! We can start renting them out as – get this! – Monkey Maids! Charge twice the regular rates since they’re performing a valuable service, and get them some little aprons. It’ll be huge! You can quit your job to take care of them! Have more fun with monkeys than you ever would at the dentist’s office, and make twice the amount!”

This line of reasoning somehow backfired. “Wait,” she burst out, “I have to quit my job? Bullshit! This whole thing is your idea! Why should I spend all my time taking care of them? You quit your job!”

I shrugged. “Ok, I’m just saying, the money is going to be fantastic.”

Her arms re-folded again. This girl is tough. “Oh, yeah, right, we’re gonna make so much money. It’s bad enough that we are illegally housing seventeen monkeys, but now you’re advertising it? Yeah, let’s just tell everyone that we have a primal horde of monkeys! On Craigslist, the most official site ever, where nothing illegal ever happens! Where we’ll look so trustworthy! What kind of morons did you rent these animals to last night? I can’t believe the cops aren’t here right now!” Her arms were still crossed, but her hands were moving.

“Liz, please. I’ve got it under control. Johannes is going to help keep the police off our backs for a while with lots of paperwork about their whereabouts, and advertising on Craigslist will get us a decent following before attracting the attention of the authorities. Cops don't even look on there. By the time we’re a big enough deal for Animal Welfare to come down on our heads, we’ll have made enough to buy all the proper licenses and facilities. I’ve got it all planned. And I promise, even if something goes haywire I’ll take the fall. I won’t let them blame you for my mistake.”

That last line was golden. She almost smiled. I was in.

“Look,” I put my hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “Just give it a try. Help me out till you go back to work on Wednesday, and if you still think it’s a bad idea, we’ll call Johannes and ask for some help getting rid of them.”

She nodded, arms crossed again. “Don’t think this is going to last long,” she said, “but ok. I’ll try it.”