loose lint

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

bored? i got bored this morning and did this. i thought you might smile to read it! it is just for fun! so please, don't take offense. enjoy! When I say bored, I mean I was avoiding another task, but ok. Got it done, too!

Giant Red Alert Please!! This story is not intended for children. I did write one that is. Thanks!

Sorry about that print! I will work on it tomorrow. I sat with a computer and my phone and can't get it right, but today is a day for that! Actually, I downloaded a browser, and added a poem, and thought to edit this. But can I plead artistic license? It kind of grew on me. Alien tale. Alien formatting? Can we agree it's a weird happy accident? smiles.

You Know, Warning, Adult Content, Not intended for Youthful readers. Try my other book....smiles.
I walked to the store at three am to get cigarettes. The lights cast halos in the fog, and a dog barked in the distance. As I rounded a particularly overshadowing tree, I saw an alien walking by painted white carrying a peanut butter bucket, also painted white. He was wearing a trench coat, I could tell he was male, because he acted like he had a right to be there.
He was smoking a cigar and blowing smoke rings and I nodded as I walked by, but he didn't seem to notice. I walked into the store and got my smokes, the clerk looked like he had fallen into a coma so I didn't bother with small talk. I walked by the alien again on the way home, he muttered "where did I leave my keys?" in French, but nothing more. So, the next night I went out to get cigarettes, because you know, alien, and just like the last time, about the overshadowing tree, there he was. Except this time, he was staring intently at a deck of baseball cards. He was wearing a Babe Ruth jersey. It seems impossible to say, but I swear his eyes lit up. I didn't bother him. By now I really did want a cigarette. The clerk looked half alive tonight so we talked about the weather. It always brings out people's passionate side. Then, I left and headed on back, it was a nice night out, the breeze just cool enough, and the stars all clearly winking at themselves.
But then, the craziest thing happened. A white VW microbus covered in intricate black work and fabulous colors pulled up at the gas pump. A incredibly long, incredibly skinny kid with noticeable knees got out of the bus. He walked over and started calmly explaining to the alien that he was trying to train his monkey to drive the bus. Now, I know monkeys can drive, so. That is not the crazy part, the crazy part is when this little old lady runs up to the alien and starts chanting, rolling out sack cloth and ashes there in the parking lot, and I thought to myself, "You know, this is likely to cause undo attention!" And I decided it might be best to leave. I bid good night after a nodding fashion to the alien who was now transfixed watching the old lady swinging an incense burner and chanting. The VW microbus had gassed up, and the monkey took the wheel. I headed back past the overshadowing tree wondering if this would be in the papers, tomorrow.
The next night, now, since the papers hadn't said nothing, I went back just to see what had come of it. I passed by the overshadowing tree, and found the alien sitting there on a bus bench, and the little old lady was now drawing runes on the ground around him. I vowed to venture out in the daylight, because you know, maybe there just wasn't nobody else out this time of night. The clerk seemed in a really good mood, talking about beating some video game and I shared his joy, because seeing him every night like this made him the closest thing to a friend I had had in some time. Besides, to win! After all you spend your life on those things.
I walked back out, and on a lark, decided to invite the alien for tea. After all, it was time to admit this was curious. He looked surprised, but seemed to understand. The little old lady just looked mad that I was stealing the attention of her deity. He got up and followed me into the shadow of the overshadowing tree. The little old lady started packing up her stuff in disgust. I could here something about "all the rest." I unlocked the door and turned on the light. He looked over my house without comment. So I led him to the kitchen and put the kettle on. I pulled out a chair for him at the kitchen table, since we were waiting on the tea, and I asked him what he was doing hanging out at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. To my surprise, he answered me. His voice was silent in the room, but I heard him clearly in my head. He told me he was in search of some new coke to fuel his spaceship, he was 864,000 light years from home, and he figured a case would do it. I told him to try eBay or something, because I hadn't seen New Coke for years. He frowned, but seemed to understand.
The kettle whistled, and I poured the water into the tea, and set the timer. I asked him how he figured there was no commotion about him, because hey, we both know this is not normal, and he said the only thing he could figure is people thought they were hallucinating, it was some sort of Media blitz, or they were used to seeing aliens, he said he couldn't be certain. He said he'd learned to fly a hat, and a surprising number of people would give money to an alien. Most of them said "phone home!" He said, but he clearly didn't get the reference and said he'd like to, and then he said something about intergalactic space junk interference. When the tea was ready, I poured it. Some of the images, and words he used in his transmissions were frankly alien to me, and there would be awkward pauses as I tried to think of something adequate to respond with. I would speak out loud, and then feel stupid, because comprehension crossed his face at the thought. Cream? Sugar?
I asked where he had been staying, and he said his ship was just the other side of the park under a cloaking device. I told him he was welcome to crash on the couch because I could use the company, and we'd look for new coke tomorrow. There was an abandoned sock plant the other side of town, and I was already wondering if maybe the coke machines there might still have new coke, because there was a spill at the nearby chemical plant and they cleared the sock factory out and never went back. Of course, it would be risky to go messing around there, and one would need a plan. I wondered where my bolt cutters were and considered how one obtained a blow torch briefly, but it was late, and my brain was needing sleep.
I cleared the table, and grabbed a pillow and blanket from the hall closet, locked the door and offered the bedding to my new friend. He asked if I minded if he watched TV since sleep was an ancient habit, one not needed by him, apparently. Well, what can you say? I showed him the remote and the directory channel and bid him a good night. The next day, I woke, and heard the tv. After a bit, I wondered down to see what was going on and commence to planning, and he was sitting there surrounded by various different junk food wrappers and a giant soft drink. I could only assume he had visited the convenience store.
He greeted me cheerfully enough, and I told him about my plan. He seemed delighted at the possibility, and together we began to research on the old plant, figuring the lead obvious entrance and exit strategy. It was at this juncture that I learned the blow torch would be unnecessary, that my new pal had an interesting subset of skills. He had the ability to move metal and other objects through thought. I wouldn't have been human if the idea of what that meant hadn't begun to dawn on me. He thought the internet a novelty. He could alter it, at will as well. I started to wonder if there might be a benefit to helping an alien acquire a case of new coke.
I could see he had some sort of morals, and I didn't want to test his limits, but I wondered if I could find a way to get him to alter one thing that would change everything. We plotted our departure, our entrance to the sock plant, our search for new coke and our exit. I had looked up various schematics, since his internet had no passwords, and found there were no alarm systems attached to the old sock factory. I guess it was not an interesting place to trespass. Our plan seemed to account for all possibilities. I had even mapped the schedule of the local sheriff sometime ago, and unless something unusual happened, they were not going to be around the sock factory. Why? Well, you never know when you might need to find a policeman.
As darkness approached, we gathered our few supplies, turns out we didn't need much since my new buddy was like this handy all purpose burgle tool. We decided to take my car, since I could park it out on the road but up a bit, and it would just look broke down. At dusk, we headed out. We arrived at the sock factory without incident and found the door to the break room, my friend unlocked it after some serious thought, and we went in search of the coke machine. I found it, next to the snack machine just around the corner from where we came in, past the lounge to the left. It had new coke, and after another thought, we were pulling out easily a case of new coke from the vending machine. I bagged it up in a duff brought just for the occasion, already in a coke cardboard box so as not to look unduly suspicious. He closed up the soda machine and we left. As we walked back to the car, I saw headlights coming up the mountain, and so we got into the car and continued driving along to the dam, as if we were heading to the neighboring city. If there was anyone suspicious about our being around the sock factory, we wanted to appear as innocent passersby as much as possible. One might suspect a car suddenly ahead of you when there had not been one previously.
We were right in our decision, because right as we got to the entrance to the interstate, we saw that the headlights were a local cruiser, and it went passed and turned into the sock factory. Apparently, we were innocent enough, driving into the neighboring city in the middle of the night. Early flight. Well, since we were headed into the city, I asked him what kind of money he had on him, and he pulled out a wad of bills. Apparently, it pays to be an alien. I figured we'd head up and see what was going on. Morning would be soon enough to fire up the spaceship, after all. I had seen Cleveland in those Presidents, and I figured YOLO! My friend had to see earth right.
What cultural events would you take an alien to? I figured we'd start at the local strip club, it was like me, figuring a bachelor party, after all. I had to send him home with Memories!!
World peace could lie in the hands of this night.
We checked into a hotel, and took a cab to the club. I figured I didn't want to drive, and I wasn't sure he had a license. The club was rocking and it was early, yet, so I sat him up with a round at a table that said "I got money!" And let him go. The bartender seemed tuned into him, and he got fancy drink after fancy drink and I found myself wondering if I were gonna be put under the table by an alien.
While he handed out bills to the dancers, he talked about life on his planets and how he missed the companionship of his consorts. He did indicate he was homesick, and I figured I didn't want to know.
He seemed to think earth girls were not enough of a challenge, and I reminded him there were alien groupies out there and he had to concede it was true. We laughed at that idea, because he was transmitting some wild stories. But he got distracted when they brought the next round of drinks. Before too long, people were joining him at the table, and setting up lines, and trading pills. I had long been out of such scenes, but I figured that they were taking him on the tour. After all, he was a grown alien. Finally, the last drink was poured and a rather rousing night ended with a whimper, as we caught our cab home. He had not seemed inclined to bring the party with him, and I was looking forward to my bed.
I left him watching tv, wondering if aliens got hung over and making sure to grab a good gallon of water and some pain pills for morning. I had not been drinking in a while, and it was gonna take me some time to convince the room to stop spinning. Oddly enough, I awoke the next morning and didn't fell too bad. Must be something to hydration after all. But my alien buddy was honestly pale green and rolling out lines for himself to recover with hair of the dog. I thought that was intriguing, because I had no idea what coke might do to an alien.
But after a few glasses of water brought by me, and a line or two and twenty minutes or so, he returned to his nice pastoral hue. We decided to pack our new coke and head out. He was looking forward to his intergalactic trip, and I was still trying to figure out how this could end well for me.
So we wound up back at my place, and after a while, I asked if he could correct a line on a billing statement on a website for me. He said he'd be happy to. I explained it was my job, and I should have been working on this project yesterday. He agreed. He inserted a one line entry into all the cell phone bills on the planet. It collected one cent into a fund for "Emergency fees," and they would deposit in my bank account. The whole arrangement was set to dissolve and disappear in ten years time.
He seemed pleased he had solved my problems. And how! But that is another story. We went to the park, and I helped him fuel the ship with the new coke. He told me if he was ever back in this sector of the Galaxy, he'd look me up. And he took off, and I stopped at the convenience store to buy smokes and say hi to Ed, and made my way back around the overshadowing tree into my apartment. This would be a story to tell, indeed!

Submitted: September 28, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Jo Kelly. All rights reserved.

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