I was keen to attend a lecture by author Raymond Szymanski who’d just written a book called, “Fifty Shades of Greys,” referring to the pesky big-eyed aliens commonly known for abducting humans. He was speaking at the local UFO meeting, so I thought I’d stop by and at least check out his book. Having witnessed UFO’s with my own eyes, this is a topic I find intriguing.
I arrived early and sat in my car checking email for a few minute when I noticed a parade of characters in my rearview mirror – over 60, balding, bearded, in faded plaid, worn tennis shoes, and windbreakers. It occurred to me that subject matter attracted a particular demographic. Perhaps the type that spent their nights wearing headphones connected to parabolic devices, one eye glued to a high-powered telescope from the roof of their octogenarian mother’s house.
In my lavender pants and pink, green, and white floral bag, I would stick out like a church lady in a biker bar.
When the Uni-bomber dude – black hoodie, black jeans, black shoes and matching backpack passed behind me, I decided that perhaps I was a tad over-dressed for the event. (Did he think the greys couldn’t see black with their huge black eyes?)
And what if I was the only female? What if they wanted an email address for future notifications? What if they wanted to (gulp) engage with me?
Hey, I just wanted to hear the speaker, his findings, and research data. I didn’t want to become FB friends or subscribe to some conspiracy theory newsletter or be interrogated by a bunch of former military guys.
Honestly, I think I’d have felt more comfortable in a room sitting next to this guy instead of Mr. Uni-bomber.
Was I stereotyping? Profiling? Absolutely. Just like the little grey guys do when they select their specimens for experimentation.
Now, I may well have had a fantastic time, learned some new things, made a couple new friends with a common interest . . . Then again, if the truth is out there, it can probably be found on Amazon!
Mr. Szymanski, forgive my absence. I don’t always boldly go where I don’t comfortably blend.