Standing in front of the cop, the alien, Alta, said, “I come in peace.”
“The heck you do!” replied the cop to the six-foot seven, hippie-looking person standing before him. Along with the mask of a human face, Alta was wearing an outfit he had chosen from an early 1970’s Halloween catalog. It was the only catalog they had in his planet’s library.
The cop, who was pretty tall himself, and pointing a pistol at Alta, ordered the alien to turn around and put his hands behind his back. “Sorry, I can’t do that,” replied Alta, as one of his huge palms clamped around the cop’s wrist. Knowing that the earthling was somewhat more fragile, the alien tried to be gentle, but his grip hurt anyway.
“Ow! Ooh!” the cop grimaced, as Alta shoved him hard against a nearby light post. The force sent the cop sprawling to the sidewalk, and his pistol skittering into the gutter.
“Time to leave,” Alta said to himself, and took off running toward the park, where his spaceship was hovering above the trees, its cloaking field rendering it invisible to all but Altarians like himself. But just as he was about to step into his ship’s cloaking field, he heard music coming from somewhere outside of the park.
Stopping to listen a moment, he realized it wasn’t really music. It was more like several people pounding on drums and tambourines. Curious, Alta peered out through the trees and saw a parade of people, many of whom were dressed in similar outfits as his. And when he looked at a sign one of the female Earthlings was carrying. It read: The 40th Anniversary of the Hippie-Dippie parade. What the heck does Hippie-Dippie mean? Alta decided to find out.
Stepping out of the park and into the midst of the parade, Alta began to move alongside a very skinny, wrinkly-looking, middle-aged man who, like the wig Alta was wearing, had his own long grey hair tied in a ponytail, and who was tapping a tambourine with the heel of his hand.
“What is everyone celebrating?” Alta asked the man with the tambourine.
“It’s the 40th anniversary, man!” said the hippie person.
“The 40th anniversary of what?”
“Peace, man! 40 years ago, we had our first hippie parade. At the time, we were celebrating peace, love and understanding! Now we recreate the same parade once a year, every year.”
“Oh,” said Alta, nodding his head, but not sure he completely understood.
As they continued to march, Alta smelled something unfamiliar. “What’s that smell?” he asked the hippie man.
“That’s ganja, man!” Alta’s forehead wrinkled. “You know marijuana! You want a hit?” Since Alta was hoping to experience as many human customs as he could during his short visit to Earth, he nodded. The man with the tambourine turned to the busty woman next to him and said, “Sadie, give the dude here a toke on your joint.”
Smiling like she was only half aware of where she was, Sadie nodded and passed the very fat doobie over to Alta, who took it carefully from her fingers. Not sure at first what he should do with it, he glanced around. That’s when he noticed several other people with similar items between their fingers. He watched as they pressed the non-lit ends to their lips and inhale deeply. Holding their breaths for several seconds, each eventually let out a plume of smoke. So Alta tried to do the same, but immediately began coughing from the acrid smoke. While trying to stop, he handed the joint back to the woman, who with a hardy laugh said, “Not used to the smoking marijuana, are you?” Still coughing, Alta shook his head. “You must be from out of town,” she said.
Once Alta was finally able to speak again, he explained, “I’m from the third planet in the Oskit system.”
“So does that mean you’re some kind of outer space alien?” asked the male hippie.
“Cool, man! But what are you doing here?”
“Right now, I’m trying to hide from one of your law enforcement officers. He wanted to arrest me; said I had robbed a convenience store.”
“Did you?” asked the female hippie.
Alta shook his head emphatically. “No, I come in peace.”
“Right on!” replied the male hippie.
Just then someone shouted, “You, hippie, remain where you are!”
Alta looked to where he heard the voice. “Oh, Zowns!” he said. “It’s the cop who wanted to arrest me!”
“Bummer, man!” exclaimed the male hippie.
“Sorry to smoke and run,” said Alta, “but I have to go,” at which point he left the parade and ran toward the park again.
“Halt!” he heard the cop shout behind him, but ignoring him, Alta continued to run until he disappeared into his ship’s cloaking field.
“Now where the heck did he go?” mumbled the cop.
Looking around, he did not see any sign of Alta. So after a while, he returned to the parade.
Back inside his spaceship, Alta began to scan the area for another type of costume he might use to better blend in with the Earthlings. That’s when he saw another group of individuals dressed in costumes, some very similar to the Oscarions and other planetary societies he was familiar with. They all seemed to be heading for the same large building, outside of which hung a banner that read: Welcome To Aliencon!
That’s it, thought Alta! I’ll just go as myself and everyone will think I’m part of the crowd! So leaving his spaceship sans a costume, he began to follow the stream of people toward the combination hotel and convention center where the Aliencon was being held. There was one possible obstacle he observed. Several humans were out front checking entrants for tickets. No problem, he thought. I know how to get around that.
Waiting for a gap in the line, Alta walked up to one of the people checking for tickets, and with a subtle sideways fanning of his fingers, said to the person, “You don’t need to see my ticket. I’m not the alien you’re looking for.”
After blinking a couple of times, the person replied, “You’re correct. You can go in.” And with that, Alta followed the crowd inside the building. Immediately, he felt overwhelmed. Not only did it seem as if thousands of Earthlings were milling about inside, but the plethora of them dressed in costumes was simply eye-popping.
The first thing Alta did was roam around the sales floor and look at all the items on display. Next, he followed a group of costumed humans into a large room with chairs and a stage, where he listened to a group of people on the stage talk about the wonderful time they had making a movie called: Battle Of The Universe. But what Alta liked even better was the variety of human foods available to eat.
D-e-l-i-c-i-o-u-s, he crowed, after finishing a huge plate of Nachos!
Just as he was wiping the last morsel of melted cheese from his lips, a human female dressed in what looked like two strips of metal-like material, one across her chest and the other across her pelvic area, leaving the rest of her body bare, said to him, “Aren’t you awfully tall to be a grey?”
“We Alterians are always this tall.”
“Does that mean every part of you is big, too?”
Looking at her a bit confused, Alta replied, “I guess you could say that.”
“In that case,” said the human female in a husky-sounding voice, while pressing herself against Alta, and gently messaging the top of his smooth almond-shaped head, “how about we go to my room and I’ll show you my etchings.”
Alta wasn’t completely sure exactly what she meant, but the press of her body against his own was making him feel warmer by the second. So he followed her to the nearest elevator, then up to the floor where her room was. Once inside the room, it became immediately clear to Alta what the human female had meant by showing him her etchings.
Afterwards, Alta left the room with a smile on his face and the thought—Zowns! Talk about rattling a few asteroids! As for the human female—he left her also with a smile on her face, while she replayed over and over inside her head every delicious moment of their encounter. “Wow!” she mumbled and shivered when she remembered several of the numerous pleasurable moments she had experienced. “Wow! . . . Wow! . . . W-O-W!”
Back on the sales floor, Alta acquired so many items he had to borrow an empty trash can on wheels just to haul everything around. Of course, he didn’t have any human money, but using the same trick he used to get into the convention, he didn’t need any.
That night, as Alta lay in his ship’s sleeping cubicle, and thinking about all the fun he was going to have again the next day, he thought to himself—maybe I should call my cousin to join me. He would definitely love to meet all those human females, especially the ones willing to show him their etchings.
Eventually, he fell asleep to visions of human females writhing like the tentacles of a Toraxian squid.