Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Close Encounter of the 3rd Kind

Seems these days, those dang aliens are on the move again--the outer space kind, not the south of the border kind. The good people of Stephenville, Texas are the latest to report UFO activity. Are there outer space visitors among us? Recent events would lead me to think so.

For example, last night, we went to a potluck at a neighbor's home. About 20 or so people were there. Now, most people in such gatherings would try to put their best foot forward, but not the couple from 2303xxxx lane. A somewhat early middle age (late 40ish) couple, they came to the party snipping and criticizing each other out in the open and throughout the night. It makes me wonder, whatever happened to the good old days when couples kept their business private? Both of them always have a beer in hand, regularly insulting each other across the room. It was an uncomfortable scene, but what could I do but put some brisket on my plate, find a comfortable seat, and enjoy the show with such classic lines as, "All you ever do is bitch!" and "How hard is it to pick up the phone and call to say you're going to be late, again!"

I'm thinking, get a divorce all ready, for crying out loud. They have two daughters in grade school, who conned the neighbors into buying into that Girl Scout Cookies racket. I told them I was diabetic, so no cookies for me. I fear when these girls hit puberty, they'll either run away from home with the first guy who pays them any attention; or they'll go goth, or skanky, or become total psychopaths when the hormones take over.

Then this morning, while I was at the local grocery store, I hear someone calling my name in a loud, annoying, screeching voice. At first, I thought maybe it was someone else who shared my name, but the voice got louder and closer, and before I knew it, I was faced with one of our former clients. A total whiner, I remember this lady was so damned demanding and pathetic. She was with some other friends or family I suppose, but she greeted me, and introduced me to her friends in a loud voice, "Oh, this is that wonderful fella I was telling you about. He was the only one who wasn't a c*nt to me at the company!"

I'm thinking, Good Lord, lady, I buy groceries here! At this point, the cashier has this condescending look on her face. I always bypass the self checkout and find the cashier. Those cashiers are going to earn their minimum wage--just like I did when I was a cashier many years ago. Besides, she should be happy that I'm giving her something to do; otherwise, she wouldn't have a job, being replaced by the self checkout stations.

As the loud lady moved on, I let out a sigh of relief, and thought to myself, wow, whatever happened to decorum and manners? At what point did it become acceptable to be loud and obnoxious and swear in a public place with children present? Surely, these people can't be human? I mean, what sort of human being has no shame and total disregard for others? Okay, so maybe there are human beings like that, but I wonder, when did they become common?

As I left the store, I thought about what some friends and I discussed after leaving the potluck. We talked about how callous that couple was, demeaning each other in public, sad, but entertaining for us nonetheless. Such an inhumane thing to do, to treat another like crap. But perhaps they weren't human at all. We conjectured maybe they were not human beings, but pod people. Somehow, the conversation eventually led to that burning question about alien abductions: What's up with the anal probing? Are aliens gay? Are they checking for polyps? What's the fascination with the human colon? Seriously, if aliens wanted to know what I had for dinner the night before, all they have to do is ask.


  1. Oh, I love Daft Punk! Erasure's coming out of the CD player and DP are going in!

  2. IDV, I luv Daft Punk, too! All their music and vids are awesome!

    A potluck is basically everyone brings a dish (or drink) that'll be shared at the gathering...like an orgy of various delights!

  3. I'm pretty sure they have pot...George Michael's been spotted with it...though, the poor fella has had only bad luck, with his pot...

  4. No. No potlucks here. Well, not in my neck of the woods, anyway.

    They probably have them in poofiest Yorkshire where hotpots are all the rage, though.

  5. Perhaps those poofy Yorkies can bring some food over for a potluck in your neck of the woods...

  6. Eeek! Good gods no!

    Imagine having to explain Piggy & tazzy to the neighbours.

  7. Tell the neighbors that P&T are from the Isle of Man...or Canadians...or the contractors you've hired to repaint your walls...