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Why are the aliens wearing office casual?

by Angie Vicars

The story you're about to hear is strange—but true. The other night, I sat down on my couch. Then I decided to lie down. I was tired. It could happen to anyone. An hour later when I woke up, I noticed something. It was only 11 o'clock. This never happens to me. Something's wrong. I know what it is. After numerous years as a nocturne, it's finally happened. I've been abducted. Reprogrammed. Turned into...a daytimer. Yikes. If it can happen to me, you could be next. But remember my friends, the truth is out there.

I've been trying to pinpoint how I was selected. Being an easy mark had something to do with it, I'm sure. There I was. Roaming on the outskirts of the herd already, flaunting my nocturnal status for all to see. Being offered a new job should've tipped me off. "Work as a full-time writer," they said. "In your own office. At your own desk. Nine to six on weekdays. Doesn't that sound good? For double your present pay?"

"The price is right. When do I start?" was all I had to say. To activate the tiny chip in my neck. Which signals the mothership. Come on down.

Here's how I know this isn't all in my head. I found a list on the Internet. It's at http://www.anw. com/aliens/52questions.htm. It lists 52 indicators of UFO encounters or abduction by aliens. Right away, I recognized my own frequently occurring new experiences. (I'm covering the reasons out of sequence, so you'll feel as confused as I do.) "Reason number 16: have awoken in the middle of the night startled." Six-thirty a.m. is the middle of the night, as far as I'm concerned—yet my alarm clock keeps going off at that hour. I can't even begin to tell you how startled I am by this.

Then there's "reason number 14: have awoken in another place than where you went to sleep, or don't remember ever going to sleep." I don't recall getting in bed for the past several nights. I remember lying on the couch, watching TV. Then my alarm clock is going off and it's 6:30 again. But I'm in bed. How spooky is that?

Moving on to "reason number one: have had missing or lost time of any length, especially one hour or more." Not only does this fit in with the above reason, it also describes what happens to me from 6:30 to 8 in the morning, which is that I have no idea what happens to me. My roommate, Mary, may have said or asked me something over lunch, I mean breakfast. (See? I'm really losing time. I'm typing actual Freudian slips now—not pretending to type them.) "Wah wah, wah wah wah wah," is what I heard her say. I don't know what I told her. What if I'm supposed to get something from the store? Tampons? Chocolate? Ice cream? Chocolate ice cream? Mary, phone home. No, wait, I'm not at home. Am I? Where am I?

In any case, this brings me to "reason number 25: have been suddenly compelled to drive or walk to an out of the way or unknown area." Suddenly, work compels me to drive for at least 30 minutes to get there, then people I've never seen before stop by my office to ask what I'm doing. "I don't know," I want to say. "Can you tell me? My appointment book says lunch at Luby's Cafeteria. Who am I meeting? And where's the Hot Bagel Company? Why do I feel compelled to go there for coffee when I don't even know what street it's on?"

I looked on a map, though. All the unknown locales are in Oak Ridge. Which has been a daytimer hangout for years. And a lot of what goes on there are top secret, government cover-up sort of things. I've heard that from several sources, who shall remain nameless.

"Reason number 29: have heard strange humming or pulsing sounds, and you could not identify the source." This happens everytime I nod off during the day. But I'm sure it's not the computer I work on. Why would I hear it humming, just because I have my head on it?

"Reason number 50: have the feeling that you are not supposed to talk about these things, or that you should not talk about them." I can write about them though. I have the feeling that's okay.

"Reason number 51: have tried to resolve these types of problems with little or no success." This is so true. Of course, I'm working in my field—for the first time in my life, making twice what I was a month ago. Could it be that my heart's not in going back to my pre-abducted state? No, no, that's too obvious.

The thing is, I'm really afraid I'm going to be abducted again. I've heard it usually happens more than once. This is how it will go, I suppose. Some night I'll nod off early, on the couch. To awake feeling...different. I'll look around. And lo and behold, I'll be in a bigger house. That I've never seen before. In the driveway, there'll be a car I don't remember buying, something fun and fast and four by four, with my name on the keyring hanging by the door. There won't be any student loan bills in the mail on the table. Then I'll hear someone coming in saying, "Honey, I'm home." I'll pinch myself. Ouch. Better try that again. Ouch. Look, I know this is a conspiracy. Ouch. You can't fool me. It's time for some total disclosure. I think. Maybe.