It has been a while since I added to this. Hopefully I'll update it on a regular or possibly irregular basis. As it's been irregular for the time being it will probably be that way for now. I do mean to finish this story and I truly hope this has been and will be entertaining to you. I hope it makes you smile even if you don't giggle like a school girl and all. Now, on with the show!
Part 5 or "You have HOW many fingers?"
Having resolved my wallet situation, i.e. using my front pockets rather than trying to put it in my back pocket and having to keep a hand on my bum to keep it from falling out and landing on the floor (my wallet not my bum that could be a serious problem).
After about 30 minutes of milling about our host finally appeared on the balcony overlooking the main floor.
He was a charming looking man and, if I might add that though I'm straight, he looked very handsome and I
could now understand why the women were all staring glassy eyed at him and a few were even drooling. I was not drooling, though I did catch myself once or twice. Anyway our host was tall, probably about 6 and a half feet tall with, what appeared to be a well toned body, blond hair and fair skin. He was wearing a suit that appeared to change colors as he moved and it was eye catching at the very least. He looked as I would assume to be Scandinavian. He was of course a Nordic. I see you nodding your head knowingly, but I don't think you understand. All the marvelous technology from the RSVP card to the car appearing and disappearing, the self-fixing body parts and clothes and most of all from the sparkling apple cider being served. Our host is an alien. No, not an alien from Canada or France or where ever hear on Earth, but an actual alien from a distant star.
Our host began to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen welcome to my mansion the CLIMB Mansion. I am your host Esdtjsate Ieouwaziou, which translated to your language or one of them you might understand so we'll use English Alvin Chipmunk." There were a few snickers from some of the older persons in the room but most of us had no idea why they snickered. "But", he continued, "you can call me Bob. I like Bob better and it's easy to spell and say and nobody snickers when I say 'call me Bob Chipmunk'. Please enjoy the party and if you drink too much, we have ways of fixing that." He gave a smile that looked menacing but it was probably because he wasn't used to smiling at large groups of people, or he had some malicious intent on his mind when he said what he said.
Everybody started clapping and forgetting they had flutes of cider in their hands, were sloshing the cider
all over the place, making a mess on the floor and on themselves and even on those standing next to them.As
for our host, he descended the stairs and started milling about like the rest of us. He actually came over
to me and said "Ah, Mr.. so good to finally meet you, I've heard all about your work and think it's a truly
marvelous job you're doing." He stuck out his hand to shake and I took it and thought this doesn't feel odd
at all. His hand felt like mine and even had the requisite 5 fingers (okay 4 fingers and an oposable thumb)
and his nails were well manicured. I graciously answered him saying "Thank you, though I had no idea you
were interested in medical billing software."
"Ah but I do care about what everybody does. How would you like a tour of the mansion?"
"That would be lovely sir, thank you."
He tapped the shoulder of one of the gray creatures (does that sound harsh to say "creature"? and spoke to it in a language I've never heard, though I've only heard English, French and Spanish. He could have been
speaking Greek for all I know. The little fellow looked up at me and I realized that all the gray people (is
that better) all appeared the same so to be impossible to tell one from another. Oh well, that's to be
expected I guess when you're dealing with a hive mind and all.
