A find you a-PEELING

The average male orangutan has an arm span of 7 feet 2 inches, but mines only 6’10’’. What if she only likes guys with long arms? “Phewwww…” I exhaled anxiously as I looked around the bar, trying to keep the thought out of my head. You’ll be fine Terry. Tony said she’s a lovely girl. Nothing to worry about…

The gentle chatter of human voices and light laughter bubbled from the tables in the dining area. The bar area was elegant. Mock ivy wound its way around the wine racks, complementing the gold fittings. The leaves may be fake, but they remind me of home… It was a good call choosing here for a first date. The ornate glass door opened and I turned my head a little too fast- Ah, just a human couple. I’d best look cool when she comes in, I can’t be so jumpy.

6:56pm on the clock…Every tick sounded like another nail being hammered into the coffin of my love life. I self-consciously scratched my big leathery cheek and looked down at the long orange hair on the back of my hands. I hope she likes gingers …I shook my head- I was getting nervous and silly. Of course she likes gingers, she’s an orangutan.

Mercifully, the barman’s voice roused me from my state of distraction. “You nervous mate?” He grinned. I always wondered how humans manage with such tiny mouths and teeth!

“Yea a little pal,” I replied, “You see it’s a first date, we’ve not met before, not properly anyway, well we have met once you know, but that wasn’t a time we could properly talk, you know what I mean?”

I was rambling now. Thankfully the waistcoat-clad human raised a tiny hand from the glass he was polishing and helped me out. “Don’t be nervous mate, you look great. She’s gonna really like ya, I can tell!”

I exhaled again, feeling a little relieved.

“Thanks man, I appreciate it.” I nodded into my chest.

Barman gave a friendly wink, “Be yourself, you’ll be fine.” he instructed, and busied himself with the dishwasher.

It’s 7:01 now. She’s stood me up. I knew it. I never should have bothered. She always was out of my league! The door went and my head whipped round again. Ahh! Another human couple. I buried my big orange head in a bar menu, distraught. I must have looked such a loser. I read hurriedly as if the menu held the secret to looking relaxed. White Wines, Red Wines… I’m not much of a wine fan- I prefer Banana Milkshake. Red Wines…Barolo, Montepeluciano, Merlot- The name Merlot is derived from the French word ‘Merle’, meaning Blackbird, which refers to the dark blue colouring of the grapes that-

The door opened behind me. I just knew it was her. Barman’s face lit up and he whistled. “I think this young lady might be here to see you.” He sang excitedly.

I turned around and there she was.

Wow- she is beautiful!

I’ve never seen a prettier orangutan in my life. Long ginger arms reached to the floor like two orange waterfalls. Her face was as flat and round as the moon and her awkward standing posture really accentuated her hairy pot belly. Cute highlights of green moss poked through thick, matted fur. Her teeth were big and crooked, just how I like them, and soft white hairs on her chin gave her face an inviting soft look. To top it off, she had a lovely pink bow in her hair.

I turned to the human barman, blushing uncontrollably. My face might go as red as my hair at this rate.

The human restaurant host welcomed her in with a big fuss. “Madam you look verrrry elegant ce soir, if you don’t mind me saying so!” he said in his thick French accent. She blushed and self-consciously brushed a spider from her fringe. “That’s nice of you to say” she squeaked, seemingly nervous too. A wave of relief washed over me. She was here. She was gorgeous. She was shy too. The host took her little pink bag and guided her to my direction.

“Hi, I’m Terry,” I initiated, having practised the line 1000 times in the mirror, “Nice to meet you.” I smiled, hopefully showing more confidence than I actually had. “My name’s Marisa” my date said with a genuinely warm smile. That’s an exotic name! Maybe she’s Spanish, or Italian, or… no she can’t be. We’re orangutans. She’s from Borneo or Sumatra… we all are.

We shared a quick embrace, which can get awkward with arms as long as ours, and the host led us to our table. Could I detect wet leaves? She smelled good. Elegant. Can you smell elegant? I hope I smell OK, Tony spent ages grooming my fur. Marisa even dragged her knuckles against the floor gracefully.

I suppose I do fancy her, but I can’t let it show. Well, you have to show some interest don’t you, but you can’t be too forward- I’m not a fan of all these mind games- dating is such a minefield!

As we crossed the dining room, one elderly couple looked at us funny. My smile vanished for a moment, but it’s not their fault, I suppose. They weren’t brought up in an era when we could freely mix with them. Some of my mates would have kicked up a fuss, but I don’t let it get to me. We’re just a normal couple having a night out. No matter what we are, we’re not bothering anyone.

Flamboyant French man pulled out the chair for my date with such flair that I thought the whole dining area was going to break out in applause. Beaming, he handed over the menus. I’m sure I’ve got a French cousin … Thiérry, a Macaque in Alsace. My eyes ran down the menu in fake curiosity- I’d already got a copy of the menu last week and spent hours poring over it in my one-bedroom treehouse.

The atmosphere instantly softened as we sat down and we could concentrate on each other. I still felt butterflies, but they’d calmed their little metaphorical wings for now.

“Shall we get some banana bread for the table, like a side?”, I asked. Then, worrying I sounded too forward, added “Do you like banana bread?”

“Ooh yes I do actually. Good idea! I always get hungry before the mains come!” Marisa blushed and stopped herself.

“Great, great, great, fantastic…” I need to shut up and get back on track! “How about starters? I was thinking of the Banana salad… How about you?”

“Sounds nice…,” Marisa replied, absently pulling a tick from her hairy upper arm. “I may get the chicken Caesar salad… oh but actually… I’ll swap out the chicken, bacon, croutons and sauce for some banana slices.”

“Good idea, I’m sure they’ll do that for you” I nodded enthusiastically. “I fancy a dozen bananas for the main.”

“A dozen? Wow you must be hungry, Terry!” Marisa giggled. “I can’t eat that many…let’s see… Lamb shank with minted crushed sweet potato and gremolata, Stone bass with new potato medallions; Thai coconut and vegetable curry… hmm they all sound so delicious!” She enthused, looking up at me. I like it when she smiles. “But I think I’ll go for half a dozen bananas.”

It looks like we’ve got similar taste!

“Finally, the best part,” I grinned. “Dessert!”

Marisa’s eyes lit up in agreement. “I’m somewhat of a chocolate chimp cookie too, Terry! I love desserts.” We both seemed much more relaxed now we’d established our first (of many?) things in common. “I hope they have banana ice cream,” she said, her lovely massive hairy hands struggling to turn the dainty human sized menu.

“I have a funny feeling they do.” No - that was too much, she’ll know you’ve spent weeks deciding what to order! “White chocolate cheesecake and poached clementine; Mont Blanc baked Alaska; Spiced wine-poached pear…hmmmm…” I ran my finger down the menu, acting natural- maybe badly. “Ooh this looks nice, bananas and custard. I think I’ll go for that.”

“Make it two!”

The conversation really flowed. Marisa worked for the mobile network provider Who-Rang-A-Tang Ltd in the coconut district. Not too far away from some of the construction sites I work on. She was a foodie, like me, and importantly she was highly family orientated. I really liked that. The ticking clock that seemed like the hammering of nails before now trotted away like the metronome for some upbeat music.

“…So then I said, are you taking the sticks? Of course we’re doing another tree house!” We both burst into laughter that faded into a comfortable lull. We shared a brief look into each other’s eyes and Marisa quickly excused herself to go to the toilet. I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t notice the human on the table next to me also facing an empty seat.

“Women, ey?” he suggested awkwardly, jerking his tiny thumb in the direction of the restroom.

“Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without them.” I replied with a cheeky wink back and we both laughed and traded names.

After a brief pause my new neighbour Matt asked what we were drinking. I helped him fill the time until the ladies came back. “Banana daiquiris mate, you got something as nice I hope?”

Just as he told me they were drinking Merlot, the old couple that were giving me looks earlier approached us on their way out. The man looked at me in disgust and guided his wife around an awkward path to avoid passing me.

“Erm excuse me, have you got a problem?” my human buddy asked the couple sharply. They turned briefly but hurried on. Matt turned back to find me looking down at my hands in my lap, visibly deflated. “Don’t worry about those two dinosaurs mate,” he consoled, “no one thinks like that anymore. You’re as entitled as we are to eat and go where you want.”

I sighed, “Thanks man, I know most people are fine with-”

Oblivious to the change of tone, our dates reappeared with a giggle. Despite Marisa being only 4’3’’ tall and the human girl a foot taller, the pair didn’t look out of place as friends. They’d obviously bumped into each other and were having a girl’s chat about their evenings.

We both suddenly sat upright and the girls traded playful glances. “What are you two boys talking about? I hope not us!” the human girl raised an eyebrow with flirtatious mock menace.

Matt seemed ready to tell them what had happened, but we exchanged a momentary look and he understood. It’s not worth it. “Oh, why nothing, darling” Matt said maintaining the theatre. A round of laughs followed his faux haughty tone, and I was relieved to find myself joining in. “We were just discussing the wine.”

“Wine?” Marisa asked incredulous, “Terry said he doesn’t know a thing about wine!”

Now was my moment. I could almost feel the same idea resonating from Matt’s mind.

I took a puff on an imaginary pipe and plucked the glass of Merlot from our friends’ table, swirling the ruby red liquid around the glass, inspecting it through an imaginary monocle. The three of them were lapping up my act and I felt a genuine buzz of nerves and excitement. I’m not normally the centre of attention!

“This looks like… a Merlot at first glance…. Am I right?” Matt could have won an Oscar for his amazement, but his date’s jaw dropped! Got them! Marisa turned to her new friend in disbelief, before looking at me in amazement.

I popped the glass back down, hands shaking from the mini performance. “Thought so,” connoisseur Terry concluded before handing over to real Terry. “Honestly, the name comes from the French word Merle, which means blackbird…,” now even Matt looked amazed. This wasn’t in the script. “It’s because of the grapes colour…I think.”