It seemed a good idea at the time,
and not just because of all the whiskey.
I had always been curious.
Even when we were kids,
we joked about it.
If an alien shipped landed and invited you to their planet, would you go?
Hell, yes!
I asked the aliens to wait a minute so I could make a phone call.
Over the line, I told my ex I wouldn’t be back,
that my banking info and PIN were on my computer.
In the pub, I asked my buddies if they wanted to
come with me on a spaceship,
but they said they had to get home for supper
and that the game started at 5:30.
On the ship,
the aliens positively gushed over me
with their kindness and hospitality.
It was great while I was still drunk,
but when I sobered up, I thought, crap,
what about my mortgage?
And I had that important business meeting Monday afternoon.
I was supposed to give the presentation myself.
My boss will be pissed and I’ll probably be fired.
Nothing to be done about it now.
Well, if truth be told,
space travel is pretty boring.
Nothing much happens.
It wasn’t the adventure I thought it would be.
When the aliens came to bring me lunch,
I had pretty much had it with their prostrating.
Have some pride, people!
Or whatever you are.
By chance, do you have any whiskey on this ship?
No? How about a New York Times crossword puzzle?
Darn. Any comic books?