The Man Who Refused To Take His Gorilla Mask Off, Part 4

Steve sits at his kitchen table, a sharpened No. 2 pencil in his right hand, a glass of iced tea with lemon in his left, staring at a heavily marked-up piece of notebook paper and last week's edition of the Fancytown Sentinel-Express, the local alternative newsweekly. The paper is opened to the personal ads, which Steve has been reading intently all week. Steve thinks he has finally cracked it. He's written a personal ad that will not only catch a young lady's eye, but also will entice her with its mystery and seductive promise. Steve is pleased. He takes a sip of tea through the straw poking out of his mask and resumes reading the personals, particularly the more risque section known as "Irregularities."
"Oh my," Steve says aloud. "What will they think of next?"
He chuckles politely at an ad entitled "Big Game Hunter Seeks Trophy to Mount" when an excited tapping on the door interrupts his perusal. He sets down his tea quickly, spilling a small amount, which he wipes up with a nearby handkerchief. He opens the door and is pleased to see Timmy, a blonde, mop-topped nine-year-old boy who lives in the apartment next door.
"Hello, Steve," Timmy says. "Whatcha doin'?"
Steve bends down so the mask is level with Timmy's face and says, "Well, Timmy, I'm writing a personal ad so I can meet a nice young apewoman. With all the hustle and bustle of life in Fancytown, it sure is hard to meet a suitable companion of the opposite sex."
"Gee willikers," Timmy says, recoiling. "Your ape mask is starting to smell, Steve."
"Ha ha," Steve says. "Timmy, you're alright. I merely smell like a man, son. An apeman. You'll understand someday."
"Got any candy?" Timmy asks. Steve grabs some black liquorice from the cupboard and hands it to the boy.
"Gee whiz," Timmy says, looking down at the liquorice in disgust. "You got any good candy?"
"Beggars can't be choosers," Steve says. They stare at each other for several seconds. Timmy shrugs and pops the candy in his mouth.
"Well?" Steve asks, looking at Timmy intently.
"Well, what?" Timmy asks back.
"What do you think of my personal ad idea?"
"Aw, shucks," Timmy says. "What do you want to get mixed up with some dame for, Mr. Steve? Girls have cooties. Plus they like dolls and they walk around all day going 'you're so pretty.' 'No, you're so pretty.' 'That's so cute.' 'Isn't that cute?' Who needs it?"
"Ha ha ha ha," Steve laughs, shaking the mask. "Timmy, you're the tops. I wish I was in the same boat. But I'm not. I'm an apeman, not an apeboy, and I've got specific ape needs. And specific ape urges."
Steve takes the hand-written personal ad from the table and smooths it on his leg. "You mind if I read you my ad, Timmy?"
"Nope," Timmy says. "Fire away."
"Ahem," Steve clears his throat for dramatic purposes and begins reading. "It's entitled 'Welcome to the Jungle' and it goes a little something like this: 'Ladies, have you been going bonkers over the lack of good men in your life? Well, go ape instead. Tall, dark, and handsome apeman seeks sexy, vivacious apewoman to swing from the trees with in this crazy jungle we call life. Must have positive attitude and enjoy classic rock music. No Scientologists.' What do you think?"
"Holy moly, Steve," Timmy says. "That should get you all kinds of chicks. Can I have some more candy?"
"I thought you weren't too wild about my choice in candy," Steve says.
"Ah, jeez," Timmy says. "It's not that bad."
"Here you go," Steve says, handing Timmy the candy and rubbing the top of his scruffy head. "Now run along, you little scamp."

Next week: Will Steve find success on his first date? Tune in and find out!