Be Kind to the Platypus

The Ramada Hotel bar at JFK collects interesting people. We had missed our flight to Chicago after the JetBlue steward decided my Scottish friend was hovering on the line of intoxication. Two table of Irish punks were catching a morning flight to Dallas for a show. A British FO flunky was trying to seduce my friend, who was deepening his abyss with JD and coke, while I conversed with two Deadheads pondering whether to catch the Grateful dead in Washington. We exchanged stories and jokes through several rounds of drinks. Beers for the Deadheads. Rum and Coke for me.

The conversation meandered through a maze of interests; The Grateful Dead, living in Thailand, the Ramones, the end of the GOP, hitchhiking, favorite songs and somehow vectored onto lesbians visiting the Bahamas to make love to dolphins in the sandy shallows. After I mentioned Ted Mooney's novel EASY TRAVEL TO DISTANT PLANETS, which explores the mysteries of lust between two species, the thinner Deadhead said, "I heard about this guy in Australia who was arrested by the police for the sexual abuse of a platypus."

"What?" My Scottish snapped back into this world. "How do you sexually abuse a platypus?"

He was looking in my direction, however I drew a blank.

"The police found him in a zoo with hooks and restraints. He would fasten the pltypus to a table then force open its mouth with the hooks."

"For what purpose?" Platypus have bills like ducks.

"Platypus live in muddy water and they seek prey through a small electric charge issuing from their bill. Sharks do the same thing. I think it's called electrolocation. He got his kicks from getting fellated by the platypus."

"How ingenious!" The diplomat had his hand on my friend's knee.

"Pervie if you ask me." I glared at the offending hand. My drunk friend was in no condition to protect himself from the trespasses of his fellow countryman.

"The poor platypus." The Brit got the message and withdrew his hand.

"My feelings exactly." I changed seats with my friend. The diplomat left the bad and we bade good-night to the Deadheads. Our morning flight was only 4 hours away.