Page 6 of I Think I’m in Love with an Alien

JazzyPlum: [Shut up and take my money.gif]

Stargazer: 🤣

Jeneticist: Uh, you’ve been holding out on us, Squiddy. As your extremely loyal pals, why don’t we have beta-testing privileges?

SquidHead: Are y’all really interested?

FarfromHome: I will probably regret saying this, but…yes. Absolutely. I want to play your “evolve an alien” simulator.

Seeker: Honestly, so do I. It sounds fun.

SquidHead: Okay, here’s the link. You can download files for Linux, Windows, or Apple.

Jeneticist: I’m so excited about this game! Uh, can you romance the aliens by any chance?

Stargazer: An excellent question.

SquidHead: It’s a simulator. I haven’t written any dialogue or storylines.

Seeker: I’m curious to see the science behind the algorithm. You based it on biological data?

SquidHead: Absolutely.

JazzyPlum: I love Spore! Already downloading.

FarfromHome: As am I.

Jeneticist: Me too! I’ll be back after playing a bit.

3

Jennette

I can’t believe I’m here.

Rellows, Utah greets me with a lime-green sign: WELCOME TO RELLOWS. A colorful UFO rotates on top of it, and I’m mildly amazed that nobody has stolen or vandalized the installation. Lights sparkle in the distance, houses full of people who live here year-round. GPS guides me smoothly to the motel on the other side of town. The glowing UFO says RELLOWS INN, and a marquee letter sign underneath reads: EARTHLINGS ACCEPTED. ALIENS WELCOME. NO VACANCY.

The parking lot is quite full, even though Space Con officially kicks off tomorrow. It takes over the whole town, and I can’t wait to experience everything. I park my car and hop out to survey the motel. It’s been painted recently, a pastel seafoam green, and there’s a mural on the side depicting aliens arriving in a starburst of rainbow colors. The building is cement block, L-shaped with rooms facing the parking lot. I head for the office on the right; it’s a small space with a desk, a couple of chairs, and an honest-to-God beaded curtain that separates the front from the back.

The door jingles as it closes behind me, and a round little old lady pops out from the back. “You caught me eating my macaroni and cheese!” she says cheerfully.

“Sorry about that. I’m checking in. I’m in the Jupiter room, Jennette Hammond.”

“What a pretty name. My aunt shared it. Pity about her. Such a pity.”

Uh.

If I ask what happened, I’m afraid she’ll tell me. Judging by her expression, it must be something horrible. I’d rather not know.

The office is delightfully kitschy, full of signs with amusing slogans. “Too Alien for Earth, Too Human for Outer Space.” “I Hope Aliens Believe in Me.” “The Sky Is Not the Limit.” And my personal mantra of eternal hope: “Aliens Are Out There, Be Ready.” Everything here is carefully curated, creating a vibe that welcomes people like me. Smiling slightly, I wait while she searches through a pile of papers on her desk. There doesn’t seem to be a computer anywhere in the reception area. How fascinating.

“Here’s your paperwork,” she declares triumphantly.

They take reservations online, but it seems like everything else is done on paper. Just as I’m wondering if she’ll do something weird with my credit card like photocopy it, she produces a tablet with a card-reading attachment. I’ve seen vendors at cons use these before, so I swipe it and show her my ID, which she hands back after a brief glance.

“You print out your reservations?” I ask.

“Just the form for you to fill out with your license plate info.”