A Quick Conversation with a Hitchhiking Alien

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"So," I ask, a bit unsteadily, "what are you doing here?"

There is the crinkling sound of a bag of potato chips opening in the passenger seat next to me. I keep my eyes fixed on the road, and my hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter. Most people agree with me when I say that I am a pretty imaginative person. Given that, of course, I have pictured this scenario countless times before.

However, nothing quite prepares a person for the real thing.

The tiny, fuzzy creature—alien—next to me trills. It is no bigger than a softball and has six cute eyes. I think it sounds happy, so I nod and smile encouragingly.

"That sounds like a lot of fun," I reply.

Honestly, what else could I say? I turn and take the next on-ramp to the freeway.

"Any particular place you want to go?"

The alien trills again, this time in a series of varying pitches, and I want to hit my head against the wheel in defeat. This conversation is going nowhere.

"Wonderful," I say.

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