“His Name is Cozzie,” my best friend Jill said.

“What kind of name is Cozzie for a MONKEY ??,” I shouted.
People were staring at me so I said, more in a whisper, “Jill are you sure that this Cozzie, want’s to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes, Amber, you know I spent a year in the jungles and read Diane Fosse’s and Jane Goodall’s books, I speak fluent Monkey I’ll have you know,” Jill said indignantly.

“Well then you’re coming with me to meet him at the banana tree tonight,” I said.

Later at the banana tree Cozzie jumped out of the tree, startled, I said, “Hello.. how do you do?, ah.. Cozzie.”

“He says he’s good and he thinks you’re hot and wants to marry you,” Jill said with all seriousness.

I couldn’t believe this was happening to me and said,
“Jill, tell Cozzie, thank you, but no, Monkey’s make horrible spouses.”
Cozzie looked crestfallen. Jill interpreted for Cozzie and said, “Cozzie said ‘would you be my gym partner instead?’

So that’s how a monkey became my gym partner.