Animals are funny people. Take giraffes, for example. In fact, I did take giraffes. In fact, I took three. It all started with Discovery Channel. I've learnt a lot from Discovery Channel. On Discovery Channel I learnt why, in the wild, giraffes always have zebra, small antelopes, warthogs and monkeys around them. Whenever you see a giraffe on Discovery Channel, you'll also see bunches of zebra, small antelopes, warthogs, and monkeys. Why? Because giraffes can see danger approaching from miles away, while zebra, small antelopes, warthogs, and monkeys are pretty weak and vulnerable, with few means of defense at their disposal, but they're smart and so they know that when a giraffe starts running, they should too.
So, with the crime rate being as high as it is, it seemed logical to get a giraffe of my own. No longer would my passport get stolen. No longer would I have any problems with pickpockets. I'd have my giraffe at my side, and whenever my giraffe would start running � fearing that something of its own might get stolen � I would do the same. In theory, this was of course a brilliant plan.
In practice, getting my giraffe through customs was initially quite tricky. However, Discovery Channel came to the rescue again. I had noticed how when you put two giraffes right next to each other, it's difficult to tell where the first ends and where the second begins. They're like a blur, almost indistinguishable -- the blurring effect has the consequence that you'd almost look right past them. So, to be on the safe side, I took three giraffes. It worked like a charm. We weren't stopped, not even once. Thanks to Discovery Channel, I got my three giraffes on board that B.A. flight without a hitch.
Now, people often complain about the size of those overhead compartments? On planes? I used to, too. Not anymore. You'd be surprised what you can stuff into one of those overhead compartments. Overhead compartment manufacturers have gained my respect. If I were an overhead compartment manufacturer, I would pat myself on the back. Not only did my hand luggage fit in there, not only did my neighbor's hand luggage fit in there � and you know, that dude sitting next to me had way more luggage than the British Airways overhead compartment manufacturers trade union would have considered legitimate � but anyway, my luggage, the other dude's luggage, plus my three giraffes all fitted into that one overhead compartment.
I mean, I'm not entirely stupid, so I realized from the start that I'd be faced with some logistical challenges while looking after my three giraffes. Even though my passport would never again be removed from my person � I mean, fat chance of that happening when you've got three giraffes at your side � I'd have to consider if my giraffes would be able to integrate into their new community. In France they're forbidding the wearing of those head scarves, in Italy they're sending indigent, starving, homeless migrants back to North Africa, in Holland they're talking about sending Moslems back to where their great-grandparents came from... in this intolerant climate, this increasingly xenophobic habitat, would my three giraffes be embraced as bringers of new thoughts and ideas, as an enrichment, or would their difference be a point of ridicule?
It's a hard call to make, but I made it. I believe in the essential goodness of people. Despite the wave of conservatism that has washed over Europe, despite the hard-line prevailing in the American administration, I've always believed that on a local level, where people are really at, there is a general sense of solidarity, of togetherness, a feeling that the future of one is the future of all. Nevertheless, I'd clearly given this some thought and it wasn't as if I hadn't considered the potential emotional scarring that my three giraffes might experience from possibly being rejected in their new surroundings.
And you know, I was pleasantly surprised. There was some apprehension � to be fair, from both sides � but once the ice had been broken, it was a wonder to behold. Who knew that giraffes have such a sense of humor? Of course, initially they were out of touch with recent events in Europe and the States � what with having spent their whole life in the African bushveld and all � but it didn't take long before they were making anti-George Bush jokes with the best of them. Later I learnt that they had simply re-used their anti-Robert Mugabe jokes. So, then I realized, giraffes are funny and intelligent.
It didn't take me long to discover that a giraffe has many uses. Apart from its aforementioned ability to spot pickpockets from miles away � thus completely ruling out the unfortunate situation in which one's passport gets stolen � it can also spot traffic jams so that, especially when you have three giraffes in your car, the likelihood of finding yourself in a traffic jam is not very likely. Two of the world's greatest scourges, pickpockets and traffic jams, were � in one fell swoop � a thing of the past.
For this reason it didn't take long before I noticed a certain level of envy amongst those in my immediate surroundings. And, while I sympathized fully with this most human of impulses � having experienced bouts of envy myself, in the past � I did feel that since I was the one who had to console them when they were homesick � and consoling three homesick giraffes is no joke, believe me � I should also be the one accruing the primary benefits from the lengthy periods of pitiful weeping that I had to just sit through and witness on an almost daily basis.
A weeping giraffe is fucking annoying. And I'm not alone in this opinion. It was through Discovery Channel that I learnt that giraffes are essentially very awkward creatures. They can't wipe their eyes when they cry, they can't blow their noses. Now, imagine the state of my one room apartment with three weeping giraffes � the mess was just terrible. They would weep and sniffle endlessly and I only had so many buckets and pails and pots and pans and those teeny tiny badly designed teacups � that you always end up with when you first leave home and you can't ever get rid of because you know your mother's going to ask about them as soon as you do � to deal with it.
So, all in all, it was the homesickness that was their downfall. I had never predicted that they would pine for their natural habitat quite that much. It was an unfortunate turn of events that taught me that it's impossible to predict the full length to which an animal can undermine all one's presuppositions. It made me more philosophical about the true state of affairs than I had ever imagined. And, at the end of the day, it was Discovery Channel yet again that reminded me of the thought that I had right in the beginning: Animals really are funny people.