Spilled Latte's
I stand in line at the local coffee shop. A dark-haired alien steps right in front of me, and takes my place in line. Snob. Most aliens think they can do as they please, without even caring how it affects others. Even if people want to believe humans rule the earth, these aliens are taking over. Yes, they are smarter, more efficient, and able to adapt to their surroundings better than we are. Even though I’m upset, I know better than to slow things down by insisting he take his rightful place behind me. I can’t afford to be late for work or get on an alien’s bad side.
Thankfully, the eye on the back of the alien’s head hides underneath his hair. If it wasn’t, I’d be tempted to say something to It. I bite my tongue and stare ahead of me. When the alien orders his drink, it takes him at least two minutes to decide what he’d like. He asks the barista all kinds of questions as if he’s never ordered a latte before. By the time I have my latte in my hand, and drive the rest of the way to work through the slush and snow, I am late.
I also manage to spill my latte on my shirt as I’m walking into work. At least my boss has been saying things lately that point to the promise of an upcoming promotion. I only have one more project to complete, and if it goes well, my hopes are high. High that is, until I notice the new hire. I glare at the back of his head, and make my way to my desk, not bothering to say hello when I walk past.
His desk is right across from mine, of course. He is a typical alien with four arms, two on each side, and a lopsided smile. His skin tone has adapted into a perfect tan. His build is tall and a little muscular, even though he’s thin. He’s dressed in a button-up grey polo and tight-fitting dress pants. When I am done looking him up and down, I realize something.
He’s the same snobbish alien from the coffee shop. The one who budged in front of me this morning. While he is sitting at his desk, sipping his latte, I am five minutes late. He doesn’t look rushed, not one bit, and he doesn’t look nervous. If it was my first day at a job, I’d be biting my fingernails.
He smiles at me, and I fake a smile back. Why does he have to be right across from me? I put my head down and get to work. I wouldn’t be so troubled by the alien’s presence, except for one thing. I keep hearing everyone talk about how skilled he is.
