Chapter 1 I Get into a Fight with a Gorilla

Getting involved in a fight at the zoo sucks. Being punched into the grizzly bear enclosure sucks even more. Now dying of grizzly bear attack sounds really cool! It's better than being hit by a car, or being shot getting mugged on the shady side of town. That's not how I died.

I died by breaking my neck on the fall into the grizzly enclosure. I broke my damned neck. News reports would later show cell phone video of the bear walking up to sniff my corpse. No one knew I was dead yet and the zookeepers rushed to my aid. Poor Boris the Bear was also killed that day. I don't even mind he tried to drag my body across his moat. I was already dead. The dead don't care that much. I do feel bad for poor Boris though. Rest in peace Boris.

What was I thinking as I fell fifteen feet to my death? Not much actually. I think there was an oh shit moment, then dead. It didn't even hurt all that much. The dying part, before that I was thinking damn being punched in the face hurt a lot. My vision went red then black and I could literally hear my ears ringing as I flew back. The momentum had me up and over the barrier in seconds. There was a short 2 foot mulched dirt brim right after the barrier. At first, I landed on that, but toppling backward I rolled right off and fell head first fifteen feet onto concrete.

Why did a 6-foot 4-inch Gorilla punch me? (Not a real gorilla. I can see how that can be confusing considering we were in a zoo.) This large, drunk, Viking of a man took exception to my interfering with the beating of his lady. Wife, girlfriend, I never caught the particulars. I'm not even sure what they were actually fighting about.

I was just standing there, wishing I was indoors out of the sun. I had been with a group of twenty-four other graduate student volunteers. We weren't there to observe the animals, but to observe people. We were to document how many visitors showed interest in the enclosure we were assigned. Stand there in bright purple polo shirts and stamp the children's Explore the Zoo cards with the animal of your assigned area.

I'd been standing there stamping away answering questions about Boris when Gorilla Viking wonders up. I could smell the alcohol on him immediately. They had been arguing as they walked up and seeing the situation most parents had the sense to herd junior away to see the nice kangaroos. I had this walkie-talkie thing they gave me in case of emergency, but I had no real idea how to use it. I hit the button and hoped someone on the other end could hear me.

"Hello, is anyone listening? I'm at Grizzly Bear Boris', um, I think I need help."

"Yes, is there an emergency station 16? Over," an annoyed old lady answered back.

Oh, well I felt stupid. They had drilled it into us during training that we were supposed to use station numbers when calling in. Was I also supposed to use 'over' too? What about 'copy' and 'roger that'. Hell, I didn't know.

"I have a drunk man here, um, I think I need security. He's arguing with this woman and it's getting pretty bad. Oh, and over."

"Right section 16, security is en-route please be advised. Over."

"You might need one of those tranq guns, he's huge, over."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary section 16, but thanks for the heads up I'll be sending D team and H team your way. Please keep us updated on the situation. Over."

Well, the situation wasn't looking good. Gorilla Viking had the woman pinned up against the fence and was screaming right in her face. Now I'm not certain if the woman was actually a slut whore, but the Zoo didn't seem like the place to air that sort of dirty laundry to me. The woman was crying at this point and asking him to stop. When she asked him to calm down he practically roared that the baby wasn't his. Then he pulled back his fist and punched her in the stomach.

I hit the button on the walkie-talkie, ran, and screamed.

"Jesus Christ! Pregnant! Punching! Son of a Bitch." Then in a panic, I threw the walkie-talkie at the man. To be honest with you I wasn't thinking. I also didn't hear the response. I mean I'm just supposed to stand there and stamp cards and tell people how old Boris is a hundred times a day. I'm not built for kicking Viking butt. My 5-foot 8-inch self was going to be pounded.

"YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH ME, ASSHOLE!" Gorilla Viking roared running at me like a linebacker.

"NO!" I yelled back throwing the stamp at him. In all honesty, my aim sucks. I missed him both times. I was also running out of things to throw. Maybe my shoe? Could I even get it off with a Gorilla chasing me around the observation deck? I wished I had my phone, I'm sure I could have chucked it with just as much accuracy. Oh, but I had a foldable table! Could you throw a table? They did it all the time in pro-wrestling.

My grand idea of pulling a table smash quickly turned into chase the dumb kid around the table. Him on one side of the three foot table me on the other. I dodge right he goes right, I go left he follows. I was nearly out of breath. He had sweat pouring down his face, veins popping out on his neck, and he was screaming nonstop incoherently.

"AHHHHHGGGGGGGHHHH." I certainly heard the full extent of the usage of fuck. There is a small part of me that was mildly impressed. I'm sure that guy, Rocco, from the Irish assassin movie would have been impressed too.

I try a table flip. I'm pretty sure I've seen some karate guy pull off a table flip. I succeeded in making my end of the table collapse when the leg folded in on itself.

It was right then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted an orange shirt! Yay, security had arrived.

I let my guard down. I should have never looked towards the orange shirts. It was in that moment Gorilla Viking impersonated his name sake and practically vaulted over the half-collapsed table. He got me with a very solid and accurately aimed right uppercut hitting, my jaw, scraping along my chin and hitting my nose.

I hate the color orange.