Nestor Ain’t Seen You ‘Round Here - a humor piece by Matt Mayer
Mo'nin' to ya. I'm Nestor. Pleasure to make yuh'quaintance.
If ya don't mind my sayin', I'd say you weren't from 'round here. If ya were from 'round here, well ya'd prob'ly look 'little more like me: overalls, reddish beard (no mustache), rockin’ in yer chair, wearin’ a straw hat like this'un with the top cut off. Did that m'self, cut the top off. Got hair can protec' my skull from the shade I fig're. Nice t' get the breeze in there too. Though I s'pose one could argue the top uh the hat keeps cooler air in the space 'bove ya head, and I've robbed this 'nvention of that opportunity to work fo' me. If you were from 'round here you might also have made a regrettable, unreversable change to ya hat. Maybe.
But your hat is fully intac' i'n'it? You're wearin' a bran' new baseball cap. Crisp. Logo uh the New York Yankees on it! 'Nother reason I might 'spec' you came in from somewheres outta town. Not quite so many Yankees fans 'round here.
If I may continue my observations, receiving shade from yer un-ruined hat are two eyes th’ size uh softballs, no 'gzaggeration. But they're not circular, they're shaped more like almonds, and angled down, like mad eyebrows, though I can't seem to see any eyebrows between hat brim and eye. Maybe you've got fine, wispy hair I can't see, but my gut tells me to doubt it. Ya just ain't like us hairy locals.
I understand I'm makin' judgements based on appearance here, and I hope ya don't find me rude or ignorant. Just don't get so many outta towners is all.
Now, those giant black eyes of yours are set in green skin. I don' mean green skin like you’ve got green undertones, like th' subtle olive-ish hue to th' skin tone of the peoples of Mediterranea. Jewish folk an' Greeks an' the like. Nah sir you've got yerself some bright green skin. Like a glow stick! M'grandson goes to these raves, see. They set up gargantuan speakers in a field. Like a just-harvested corn field, surrounded still by the yet-to-be-harvested crops, taller than you, boy! Throw up a coupl'a work lights, blast some EDM. That’s e-lectronic dance music, if y’haven’t heard of it. I wouldn’t know it, ‘fweren’t fer ma grandson. They play it loud as hell, but I can't hear it at the house; sound gits caught up in tha corn stalks er sunflowers on its way. Sound dampening, I believe it's called. Add to that the natch’ral falloff of th'sound over the distance. By the time it reaches the house it's just a whisper. So really, it's no bother. Grandson has a helluva time, though. Comes back while I'm already eatin' m’mornin’ oats, him still sweaty and wired. You can feel the pheromones just leakin’ out of ‘im! Brings back these necklaces and little sticks that glow just like your skin. Skin I ain't never seen 'round here before.
And below the cap, the eyes, and the rest of yer green head, well you're stark naked aren't ya. And, as any man's would, my eyes are wandering. But, I can't see breasts nor a penis, nor even a vagina. Now I'm no bigot. I like to think I'm open-minded and -hearted. I'm aware, you may be transitioning sexes, as is your right, and that may well explain a lack of physically identifiable sex organs—the motivation to go nude and stand at the base of a stranger's porch stairs remains obscured, it's worth noting. But I don't think meeting you mid-transition would explain the perfectly smooth, flat areas where I am expecting sensitive sexual tissue—why yer straight nipple-less!—nor does it explain the second set of arms just above your hips. Well, maybe hips. I s'ppose who knows. All the folks around here, well they've only got one set of arms. They got nipples. 'Cept Buster o' course, he lost one to an unfortunate run-in with a stray cat. Tell ya what, people round here, they've also got hips, hips that I'm sure are hips!
So, my guess remains, dear green stranger: ya ain't from these parts.
Now I haven't done much traveling in my 70 years, but I've seen enough in books and movies t' be pretty sure there isn't a person in Russia or China, the two farthest places I can think of on this lonely blue dot of ours, with skin that green, eyes that big, an extra set of arms, no sex organs, and who floats inches above the ground as though kept aloft by powerful magic. But I'm no fool: I'm a man of science, so it ain't witchcraft that floats you. Gotta be an explanation rooted in physics. So I'm guessing you know plenty of stuff we don't know. We being humans, no offense if I'm wrong. That's right I'm guessin' you ain't from our planet. Titan maybe, that moon of Saturn. Maybe ya shot over from a nearby galaxy, Andromeda mos' likely. (Boy, nearby's a relative word I'm realizin'!) You could've only done that if you've got faster-than-light technology, or your kind can live somehow for centuries. Seeing you float there puts me in a state to buy either of those theories.
Now if any of these suspected homes are in fact where you’re from, Russia and China included, I got no reason to suspect you can understand what I've been saying. English ain't the language of the world, just of a few parts. Hell, you might not even have language where you're from, not verbal anyway. Maybe you can't even hear sounds. Round here, in our ears—which you clearly don't have—the cochlea contains a sensitive thing called the organ of Corti, which can feel subtle vibrations in the medium of air, or other material atmospheres like water if need be, and that sends signals to the brain—another thing you may not have I suppose—and the brain interprets those vibrations as sounds, and we humans can manipulate sounds and use them to communicate with one another. Hell, maybe where you're from, it ain't here I can tell ya that, there was no evolutionary need to interpret vibrations and you can't even feel them. I might just be flapping my gams, and you’re over there looking at me like I’m crazy. I s’pose maybe those big eyes don't even see. Eyes was my word, but really they're just big black orbs. Who knows what they do?
Gosh, where are my manners? Why don't you come on inside. I make a mean sun tea. I bet you're thirsty...welp, there I go being ignorant again assuming you share the same survival needs. We humans are carbon-based lifeforms, and we require lots of water to stay alive.
Parched or not, clearly you've traveled one hell of a distance. Must not be your first stop either. I can't think of a single place 'round here that'll sell ya a Yankees hat.
