When I arrived at my regular cafe everything was quiet. A giggling couple sat in the centre of the cafe sipping on espressos, occasionally puffing away on cigars. The smoke traveled through the air englufing the little place in a thick sweet fog. Immediately my eyes were drawn to the corner of the room where a woman sat trying to escape the smoke. Her blonde hair hinted reds and brown and her eyes jumped out at mine. She noticed my gawking though she looked away hiding her face behind her cappuccino.
I thought about my condition about 'over-thinking' about what were the side effects of the medicine. Would it leave me paralysed in the leg or my eyes dropping out of my head?
I found myself standing in front of her table not knowing why I had the nerve to go over to her let alone to open my mouth and say, "Hello." I spotted the book that she was reading immediately the book was by Charles Neville she was on page one hundred and thirty-two. My mind did not think of asking why was a blonde reading such a book, blonde jokes or statements for that matter were beyond me. The book told me she was somewhat intellectual for a Charles Neville book was all about equations and theories that built the world. What he did was set out on a journey to disprove a lot of what was deemed common sense. Sometimes I felt no point in reading his works but his hypotheses were so out there and interesting that I couldn't ignore his writing.
She turned the page with her long red varnished nails.
Page 133— The Dissolution of Newton’s Law. Theory of Truth
In
“Charles Neville,” I said referring to the name of the author of the book.
“Charles Neville,” she retorted, “I thought he’d look a little older. I’m Samantha by the way, nice to meet you Charles.” She smiled a great big smile, I could get used to waking up every day to that smile.
I didn’t deject to being called Charles at least for the time being she could think of me as a crazy intellectual who wrote such confusing theories that they were deemed good.
“So I see you like reading,” she said smiling her smile. “I’ve noticed you here before. Quite a cosy place, though I don’t see it as being a typical hangout of a blue collar worker.”
“Yeah,” I replied suddenly feeling conscience of where I was. I started to look strangely out of place.
“Never mind me, I’m just trying to wind you up.” She must have noticed I was standing. “Why don’t you take a seat with me and I’ll treat you to a coffee.”
“No, I’m ok.”
“Look,” she said raising her voice, “I’m the one offering, you can’t refuse a good looking girls offer, it would be considered impolite.”
I accepted her offer and sat down in the seat next to her. She signalled with some sort of reassigned hand signal to the long haired man who was trying desperately to cut an apple pie into a perfect nine. No doing mate.
“I’m Tom Bates,” I spurted out, not willing to go on with the pretences, though I knew she could tell that I was not a best-selling author.
She smiled as the act of cutting apple pie into a symmetrical slice was being transformed. “So you’re not an author?” She asked mocking.
“No nothing as interesting as that.”
“Then what are you?”
“I was a financial analyst.”
"Was?""Got fired yesterday, but it's ok I hated it." I really didn't a job was a job.
“So what did the financial analyst do?”
“It is boring work really. I worked in an investment bank, reading company financial statements and analysing commodity prices, sales, costs, expenses, and tax rates in order to determine a company's value and project future earnings. I regularly met company officials to gain a better insight into the company's prospects and to determine managerial effectiveness. It was my job to keep abreast of new regulations or policies that would affect the industry, as well as monitor the economy to determine its effect on earnings.”
She scrunched up her nose and gave me an expressionless look, “So you really are boring then,” she giggled. “Do you know how stuck up you sound when you discuss your profession?”
"Coffee, please!" I could have stood up and roared but the man was still struggling to come to terms with cutting nine pieces out of perfectly round pie. Why didn’t someone just buy the whole damn thing off him? And why the figure nine?
I laughed realising she was just trying to make small talk; there was no need to get all strung up over it.
“So what do you do?” I asked, though I could have guessed she was some sort of student who was studying in the nearby university whose motto was, “Knowledge learned is knowledge earned.” I smiled inwardly there was no such motto like that, though I wondered what that would translate into Latin, would make for a great inscription.
“I'm a student,” she giggled, and immediately I knew what she meant by the giggle. Images of her at her desk swotting away did not come to mind but her in a tight t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans in some campus apartment having a good time on booze and drugs. Sex would be included in the images somewhere.
“And so…?”
“Extraterrestrial Studies.”
My eyes widened, she was having me.
“No, no, it’s the truth, right now I’m studying about the Ummri, and I can choose to learn it as a second language next semester if I want.”
I had forgotten all about the apple pie. “So are you one of those crazy UFO activists?”
“No, no…it’s a proper field of study, not as crazy as you think.”
“So what will you be able to do when your studies are over?”
“A lot of different things, but I want to go into research, alien abduction interests me the most.”
The coffee came steaming hot; I could have sworn that some of the stewed apple from the crust of the pie was floating in my cup though I didn’t complain. Certain things bothered me at times, but this wasn’t one of them.
“You believe in aliens?”
“What are you saying, are you saying that my religion is based on something to do with aliens? Are you saying that maybe God is one of those green big eyed aliens? Maybe he was ET?”
ET never existed, or did he?
“Do you think aliens are something that exist?”
“No, I don’t believe in aliens. Though I have nothing against an alien if one was to exist. Aliens in my mind have been invented so that movie studios and authors for that matter can make the story more interesting. I mean you could have a guy driving on a long a road, lets make that a dark eerie road, not a single light but the headlights of the car, all of a sudden the engine goes dead and the man is sitting in his car scared shittless, not knowing what to do. Getting your attention?”
“Yes,” she shrugged her shoulders, though she knew what the reply the answer would bring.
“Now to heighten anticipation, suddenly a bright light appears in the sky and bang the terrified guy disappears from his car, the light then disappears and you have the car sitting on the road without it’s driver.”
“I know what you’re getting at numerous other ideas could be assumed such as was the light so bright that at the time of the man’s disappearance he got out of the car and went to get help, was the light really a UFO or was it just a passing motorist. You see you can’t assume what something is, you have to be certain.”
“But I thought that in your area of study it’s all about assumption.”
“No, it’s an assumption.” She giggled a soft little childish giggle that made her breast jiggle. I liked it when she giggled.
“But it can’t be considered a fact.”
“You’ll be surprised what has been discovered about alien life.”
“So your studies are a secret to the ordinary man on the street?"
“I wouldn’t call you ordinary,” she said touching me on the shoulder, “but yes not everyone knows about what I study a lot of it is because people just ignore it.”
“And what do your parents think?”
“They wanted me to study medicine, my dad died when he heard the news and my mum was so shocked she became unconscious and has been in a vegetate state ever since.” No smile on her face.
My mouth widened, “Seriously?”
She laughed and said, “Seriously they were shocked and upset, but what could they do I always wanted to study Extraterrestrial activity. Ever since I heard voices when I was young, I knew I had to major in that field.”
I was cruel at times I could not pass up the opportunity to throw a comment back at her. “Voices.” I smirked. “Wouldn’t you decide to study paranormal activity or it would have been easier to see a shrink. It would have saved you choosing the wrong career path.”
I wouldn't tell her about my little secret, about my over-thinking.She seemed unaffected by my comment. “It seems funny I know, but I think those voices were aliens and they’re communicating with me, in the future I’ll be one of the few interpreters able to stop the alien invasion.”
“Invasion…?”
“There’ll be in an invasion soon; there’ll have to be interpreters for negotiations.”
“Negotiations?” I took a sip on the coffee, realising that she was dead serious. What was I thinking accepting a drink along side her. I fiddled for my phone in my jacket pocket, desperately hoping someone would send me a text message requesting my immediate appearance somewhere across town.
I sipped my coffee, I was sitting next to a crazy one someone crazier than me yet I found her highly interesting. She was different, no one I knew discussed hearing voices and an alien invasion on the first meeting. I would have loved to have an invasion of my own kind all over her, though we wouldn’t be aliens for long.
I realised I had grown quiet and my coffee was nearly gone. The sugar granules were appearing, making it obvious that I hadn’t stirred my coffee long enough.
“I hope I didn’t freak you out,” she said breaking the silence. I started swirling the coffee around in the cup.
“No, no,” I said looking into her eyes, “It’s ok, never talked to anyone like I have with you. No one really talks anymore.”
She smiled. I knew what she was thinking, she was saying in her mind that she agreed with me, no one bothered to talk anymore and when people did it was normally over video conferencing or phone. Real face to face communication was becoming a rarity.
I thought of the voices inside her head, what were they telling her? Were they telling her to invite me over to her apartment for a drink? Were they telling her students were only allowed back into the apartment? Were they telling her, I was an alien and here was the perfect opportunity to study me?
I opened my mouth and spoke, “WAMA KAL COR TAZXA PORO.”
She looked at me strangely; both her eyebrows had strangely connected. She said something; I didn’t have a clue what it was, though I could tell she was expecting a reply.
“Huh?”
There was no explanation, nothing at all. The only thing I could think it was, was the 'over-thinking'.
“Do you want to come over to my place, don’t worry, I don’t have anything like an alien autopsy going on there. Martha and Martin have gone away on a field trip so we have the dorm all to ourselves.”
I shrugged my shoulders draining my cup, “Sure, if you don’t mind.”
She paid the guy at the counter, though I tried to shove the money into his hands first. She anticipated this move and had the money already shoved into his palm. I proceeded to tell her I owed her and that I was in her debt. She told me it was only a coffee and it wasn’t like she saved my life. Maybe she didn’t save my life but she changed it. After paying we left the man who was brooding over the dilemma of cutting the chocolate cherry gateau into thirteen pieces.
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