November 23, 2016 Article

The Old Coot was at the zoo.

By Merlin Lessler

I was at the zoo the other day. I go to zoos every once in a while. The animals fascinate me. This one was in Ormond Beach, Florida; Kenny and Annie were the scheduled keepers that afternoon, coming in to replace Diana, who was on the early shift. There is a long, waist high barrier separating the keepers from an odd looking, and acting, assortment of bipeds. Kenny and Annie took turns approaching each specimen to provide liquid and solid nourishment, ego stroking and other small services to keep the subjects happy and under control. It’s a difficult job; you never know when one of the specimens will go ballistic and start a ruckus. It happens infrequently, but it happens.

Of course, I wasn’t really in a zoo. I was at a bar. The Charlie Horse Restaurant on Atlantic Avenue, a short hop north of Daytona Beach. Marcia and I go there once a week when we’re in the area to escape the cold north. We sit at the bar, have a beer or a glass of wine, and eat dinner. It’s a very busy place; Kenny and Annie go 100 miles an hour, handling drink orders for a large bar crowd and an adjacent dining room. I remarked to Kenny one night that watching him was like watching a caged specimen in a zoo, as he ran back and forth preparing drinks, taking meal orders, working the register, changing kegs, serving meals to people at the bar and handling a pretty active take-out crowd. 

That’s the night I learned that I really was in a zoo, but had it wrong. Kenny responded to my observation, while down on his knees changing the third keg of the night. He said,  “You are right. It is a zoo, but you have it backwards. The specimens are on your side of the counter. Watch the bar crowd in the mirror for a few minutes and you’ll see what I mean.”

It didn’t take long; he was absolutely right – I had a clear view of a long parade of jackasses (myself included), blowhards and boisterous, demanding bipeds, ordering drinks and meals and picking up take out orders while conversing about the world’s problems and coming up with idiotic solutions.  The mirror didn’t lie; the animals were on my side of the bar.

It’s like that in every place a counter is lined with bar stools. Once you come to the realization that you’re an attraction in a zoo, you can’t help but be a little embarrassed and modify your behavior. Which is why this article is being published. It’s a public service. Be a good specimen; the zookeepers are watching you.  

Complaints? Comments? send to - mlessler7@gmail.com