The Zoo

Part 2 of my NYC adventure

Having some hours to kill until Heather and Ted got off of work, I searched a public map for anything of interest, spying a botanical garden about a mile away. It's peculiar as normally I'm not particularly taken by flowers, but in a grimy city environment, I hankered for the beauty of a flower like never before. Rather than take the subway, I decided to walk a mile and a half since time was not an issue. En route, I nearly stepped on a dead rat fetus (if that's not what it was, that's what it looked like) and I wanted to see a flower even more, perhaps to lay beside this creature. After quite a trek, I finally found the botanical gardens, but every gate was closed, so I walked endlessly around the perimeter in search of an entrance. Though I couldn't find a way in, I eventually spotted a zoo across the street and rethought my excitement for life forms that didn't move, at least not without the aid of a gentle breeze. The zoo it is!

Upon entering, I found that this zoo was hardly the Bronx Zoo or anything of significant stature. Had the operators located the dead rat fetus before me, they probably would have put it in a glass case for viewing. I did not initially pick up a map since the zoo seemed small enough not to warrant one, but then the first building I entered wound up being the Snack Bar, which featured a couple of tables and a series of vending machines. The next building I entered offered animals -- as portrayed through art. I suppose it's cheaper for them to commission high school art students to depict their favorite animals than get the real things. I watched one parent hold up eir child and say, "Look at the monkey!" Ah yes, it was a nice charcoal drawing of a monkey. After taking in two dioramas, I was frightened to find that the next glass case actually had a living, breathing animal in it. It was a meerkat, and damn was it cute. I stared at it for several minutes, but it avoided eye contact with me; meerkats instinctually look to the sky most of the time in search of hawks -- never mind they've probably never encountered a hawk in their lives.

Next, I encountered an exhibit that allowed me to smell things that animals liked to smell. I sniffed the same thing a tiger would enjoy smelling - if they were actually present at the zoo. I proceeded onto a discovery walk where a very aggressive employee followed me around trying to assist me in my enjoyment. "Can you see the wallaby?" ey asked. I didn't give a crap about the wallaby, but didn't want to express that, so I allowed him to keep pointing and encouraging me to see it until I finally spotted it lounging behind a bush. "Oh wow," I tried to say genuinely, but I think my poor delivery was enough motivation to push him off to a family with a carriage nearby. "Do you want to touch a goose feather?" ey asked one of the parents. The parent tried to decline politely at first, but when the employee persisted, the parent finally exclaimed, "I'm not going to touch something dirty and risk getting my baby sick!" The employee was dumbfounded, while I discreetly smiled. If this worker were to be useful, ey should feed emself to one of the animals. On second thought, I can't recall any carnivorous creatures on the premises.

When I first arrived, virtually no one was at the zoo. Within half an hour, however, the place was filled with people, most about the age of seven. Families, camps, and schools took the zoo by storm. I am pretty confident in saying that I was the oldest person in attendance not accompanying a minor (or miner for that matter). As I sat down on a bench to consider my options, I heard a counselor say, "All right everybody, let's go sit down on the bench over there." Instantaneously, a pack of kindergartners swarmed the bench, invading my personal space and being even more annoying than the "look at the wallaby" person. As it turns out, little kids might be my least favorite type of creature in the animal kingdom. I became a bit territorial, not wanting to give up the space I had claimed before they did, but they outnumbered me, and by the time a couple thought it would be fun to touch me (this was not a petting zoo!), I got up and left. In retrospect, I should have peed on the bench to mark my territory: given the ages of the parties involved, I probably would not be high on the suspect list.

The last part of the zoo featured barnyard animals. Growing up in Connecticut, I've had my fair share of opportunities to interact with farm animals. Less than a week prior, I helped my cousin pick up about ten chickens and bring them to their coop once it started raining. The idea that seeing chickens was somehow zoo-worthy seemed dumb to me, but then I remembered if you're a city kid, you might have never seen a cow before, so maybe it was exciting to feature these animals. This hypothesis was promptly proven wrong by the large percentage of kids who sobbed uncontrollably at the sight of the cows, sheep, and llamas. Although I couldn't stand the shrill sounds, I found it fairly amusing to watch parents who tried in vain to have their kids grow to love the animals when that was clearly not about to happen. For that matter, I realized that I too was not going to come to like this sad display of animals, so it was probably time for me to mosey on out. I located the nearest exit, and immediately across from the street from where I exited, I found the open front gate to the botanical garden.

Sigh. Next time, I'm choosing the company of flowers.