My safari guide, who by the way looks more like a novice than a professional, seated me near the gorillas. At first I was frightened with the combination of the lack of skill my guide had and my close proximity to the gorillas, but I eventually warmed up to the presence of the gorilla family.

I browsed the menu to find that there wasn’t much food from the biome I was supposedly in. Where are the bearded pigs in a blanket? Or a capybara Caesar salad? This was far from the tropical paradise of food choices I was expecting. I made the best of my situation and ordered a round of drinks for me and the gorilla family (don’t worry, non-alcoholic Shirley Temple for the little one) to ease the tension. My new safari guide must have had a double major at safari school because she was also able to take my order too. Though, she seemed a bit confused about my good gesture to the gorilla family. I ordered a Rainforest Burger and prayed it was made from ocelot.

This is where it all went downhill. All eight or so drinks arrived in a relatively timely fashion and that’s when the gorilla family went crazy. I don’t know if it was the alcohol or the thunder that got them riled up, but I decided it was in my best interest to take the burger to go. My guide was gracious enough to get my check quickly and send me on my way home. To be honest with you, I think it was the climate of the rainforest that took its toll on the gorillas. I’m no rainforest expert, but I believe that the natural temperature for these animals is much higher. Even though the Rainforest Café was pretty authentic in some aspects, I fear for the safety of the patrons and as well as the animals. PETA will be getting a letter from me about my concerns in the near future.