An Ox in the China Closet

Here, Mayolo and I are laughing about an egg that one of our chickens had laid. Mayolo had been a bonobo keeper, but his loud voice irritated the animals, so, I transferred him to my apartment to housekeep. He was a challenge to keep employed. From Grains of Golden Sand:

"Physically attractive with a bright smile, Mayolo was a 120 pound welterweight with rippling muscles. He was strong but as clumsy as an ox in a china closet. Normally never in the apartment while he cleaned, I startled him once in my tiny kitchen—about the size and shape of a walk-in closet. Mayolo went bananas. He was so discombobulated at the two of us occupying the same finite space that he vibrated like a Mexican jumping bean. He bounced off the walls.

Boom! He hit the rusty stove and reverberated sideways.

“Mayolo! Whoa!”

“Mademoiselle!?”

He whacked the leaning wooden shelves, and a dozen glass pieces rattled ominously. Wham! He knocked down a basin from the counter.

“Please, Mayolo!”

“Mademoiselle!”

He fell into the refrigerator and it tipped on its moorings. A precious wineglass flew to the floor from on top and smashed into smithereens.

“Calm yourself, Mayolo!”

“Can’t help it, Mademoiselle,” Mayolo stuttered with anguish. “Makes me jumpy! Ugh!…smother in this place!”

The problem was that I happened to be standing in the doorway and was blocking his escape. He barreled past me like a tucked-in quarterback and knocked me sidelong against the doorjamb.

I heard him squeak, “Oh! Oh, so sorry, Mademoiselle!” as he fled to the other room.

I didn’t know if he was claustrophobic or just totally unused to the inside of a swanky “non-hut,” but I suspected that my place was setting Mayolo’s nerve on edge. Over several months, my kitchenware was completely “Mayoloized.”"