When he showed up on my doorstep that night, I didn’t believe a word he said. Of course I didn’t. What kind of woman would fall for a line like that right out of the gate? “I’m an alien from another planet, and I need your help.” Come on. Just because his face reminded me of Brad Pitt, his voice reminded me of Hugh Jackman, and his body reminded me that I had fresh whipped cream in the fridge, that would not be enough to make me listen to his crazy story. Or agree to help him. Or invite him to stay at my house. That would make me as insane as he was!

So while he was staying at my house, I tried to figure out this guy’s angle. I was no fool, after all. An alien that had crash landed and inhabited the body of the first human he saw in order to blend in — ha! What a ridiculous pick-up line, and for what? Just to get into my pants? Well, I had to say, creative or not, it was not going to work with me.

So one morning, while we were showering together, I gave him a mighty good once-over. An alien, indeed! You would think a host’s body would show some signs of being invaded by an alien life form, but nope. Not one shred of evidence; not one clue. And I can tell you, I really, really looked. This guy didn’t know who he was dealing with.

Purely out of concern for my safety from this nut job, I kept up the pretense as much as possible. While he busied himself in the garage, building all sorts of weird devices that bleeped and blipped all day, I brought him beer and gave him shoulder rubs, which seemed to baffle him as much as it pleased him. Maybe because I always did it in my underwear, but keeping him off-balance was exactly my plan! How else was I going to get a good look at the thingamajigs he was working on and report it all to the police later? They were going to need to know about the black box with all the wires…or, wait. Black globe; it was more of a globe, I think. It was definitely black. And, you know…bleeping and stuff.

And, of course, I nearly laughed in his face two weeks later when he said it was time for him to go, but that he wanted to give me something. As if I would want anything from that guy! He pushed away the ring finger I was holding out, and gripped my arm instead. To my horror, he slid a tiny dot just under my skin behind my elbow. He said that it was a transmitter that would allow him to find me wherever I was on Earth. Well, I’ll tell you right now, that sent me through the roof! How dare this loony bird try to keep tabs on me like that? I would have none of that! So after giving him my home phone number, cell phone number, e-mail address, VIN number, and Facebook link, I felt satisfied that I had headed off a potentially awkward situation later.

That night, weighed down with armfuls of black, bleeping doohickies and my boudoir photos, he disappeared into the woods behind my house, looking just as dazed as when he arrived. I think we know who got the last laugh on that one. As I sit here now, tracing the outline of the transmitter under my skin and checking Facebook, I have no illusion that he’s going to call. I’m no fool, after all.