Zoology

Yesterday, I continued my outer borough explorations, accompanying wildly popular celebrity blogger Aaron to the Bronx Zoo. Aaron and I met up at 70th & Madison, near my apartment, to catch the express bus to the zoo, which strangely picks up passengers at the very corner that houses the Prada, Gucci, and Cartier flagship showrooms. Has anybody in that neighborhood ever been on a bus in their lives?

It was oddly tranquil waiting there in the pre-opening quiet, at the corner of Bling and Billionaire, hardly a soul on the sidewalks, other than the occasional socialite drifting down from her penthouse to walk her super-hybrid designer dog. Apparently, you don't need great reading comprehension skills to become insanely wealthy, judging by the "Truffels" lost and found poster we found taped to a pole. Do not question the amount of the reward, people. By the way, "havanese" is a relatively new breed, created when you mate a Pekinese and a Tickle Me Elmo. Or so I'm told.

Minutes after 9am, a cab squealed to the curb, discharging an impossibly muscular cute young man, who gave us a knowing smile before rushing to insert his key to roll up the gate of the shop adjacent to Prada. I was dying to hear the story of what made him late for work, but Aaron discouraged me from making any gestures through the display window.

The Bronx Zoo was pretty much as I left it as a six-year boy. The exhibits are generally holding up well, although there is a faint but pervasive sense of decay throughout. Aaron was a little bit freaked out by the faces of the marmosets, which reminded me very much of the troll doll that sliced up Karen Black in Trilogy Of Terror. Myself, I was hoping to see one of those all-male giraffe orgies, but I guess they weren't feeling the DJ.

The most interesting part of the visit was in the "Congo" section of the park, watching an Arab man smugly point out to his female companion that there was only one male for the nine female gorillas. "You cannot deny the way of nature!"

By the way, I'm with Ogden Nash. The Bronx? No thonx.
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