He actually looked cute, hunched on hind legs and chewing contently on the potted plants of the Alka Hotel.
Me? Well, the plant looked nice, but I was much happier with my banana and honey pancake/crepe.
But then the close relationship between the mind of the monkey and man revealed itself, as our thought patterns merged and Mr. Monkey decided my pancake looked much more appetizing than the plant.
Can you blame him?
A single bound brought him to the table side, where grubby paws grabbed the edge, sending the plastic furniture askew. I leapt back, instinctively going on the defensive in the face of his audacity, and threw my flimsy tin knife at him as he clambered onto the table. Laughable really - think of a comic book scene where bullets bounce off Superman's chest.
It must have been less than a split second before monkey man, my pancake and my dignity were scaling the side of the building in a great escape.
The other guests, arrayed along the railing above, went on with their business...and the restaurant made me a new pancake :)