Шлёнский Александр Семёнович: другие произведения.

The Alien

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  The Alien
  Have you ever heard about aliens? Not those little green bastards with bulky heads and big staring eyes zigzagging around the skies in a bright glowing dish and landing in area 51 - not those. You know, beside humanoid aliens there are also human aliens aka "alien workers". They look almost human but they live in slums, speak with a horrible accent, drive a piece of shit and work those types of jobs that most American born people usually avoid like plague.
  Once upon a time I was one of those. I was brought to the States during Clinton"s presidency and my area of expertise was software development. At the far away time point where my story takes its start, I was already kicked out of my first two projects for not understanding human speech. They said they did not have time to write down my tasks. Being a consultant, they said, I was supposed to catch my assignments right in the air in the same way a kitten catches flies.
  Okay - I replied with a thick Russian accent. - I will catch your flies easily if you speak normal English, not that bloody New York mumbo-jumbo. Or beter yet, if you speak with a French accent. The thing about the French accent was, that I"ve worked for a French company in Moscow for several years. The froggies hardly knew a word in Russian while I, in my turn, never gave a shit about their French. Therefore, we"ve always used English as a means of communication and were as much happy with each other as it"s possible for different breeds of Europeans who naturally detest one another but have to work together as a team.
  Unfortunately, my heavily "frenchised" English did not work out in the great land of Columbus. The first time my first project leader took my badge and simply said "now, get the fuck out of here!". It was the second English sentence that came out of his lips that I fully understood. The first one was "welcome aboard!"
  The second time the second project leader said - You are a great engineer but I can"t work with a deaf consultant. You"d better found yourself a permanent job where they have time to establish a communication with you and utilize your great skills. - Then he took my badge and said - It is so sad that I have to let you go. Now, get the fuck out of here!
  Undoubtedly, it was a tremendous progress in just two months!
  I followed the advice and found myself a contract-to-hire position of a senior software engineer in Gainesville, FL. I started my green card process. I bought a used Chevy Tahoe that I still drive after so many years - and it still runs great! I left Extended Stay hotel and got me a cheap hole in Covered Bridge. The bridge to the apartment complex was, indeed, covered. The creek under the bridge was full of snakes, all sizes and all colors. There were more snakes resting on the trees around the creek than pubic hairs on a mature whore.
  The guy who subleased me the room was an ex boyfriend of my, eh... "ex one night stand". Her name was Lucy. She was a world class physicist and a lousy lover. We found each other on a dating site and had a long virtual Internet romance. Finally I hooked up with her in Boston for just one night and had the crappiest sex in my whole life. Lucy turned out to be a pathological dildo user. I figured that when she started manually driving my dick over her private spots. She said she couldn"t get off any other way. I"ve never met women doing such strange things with a man"s penis ever in my life.
  She was endlessly choking my pink-headed midnight hero with her fingernails, rubbing the edges of her intimate hole with repetitive pulse strokes, varying the pattern and the frequency from time to time. After all, she was a world class physicist, even while having sex, and an ironclad proof that some sort of education makes women totally unusable in bed. Physics and engineering science, for one. The forcible procedure that I was undergoing made my dick feel like a center piece of some fucking machinery, and the rest of me, like a dull attachment to that active part that has no other functions than maintaining erection of the active part.
  The next day"s morning when I was taking a shower I noticed that I was really sore and swollen downstairs in between my legs. I also felt nauseous upstairs and upside down and inside out all over the rest of my body. All in all, I felt like a raped woman. Right about the time of me writing this story, I read about a new historical definition of rape made by the Justice Department. It said that men could be raped in their ass or in their mouth. However, long time ago, this accidental sexual experiment convinced me that a woman is able to rape a man just by improper use of his dick and no penetration at all. Low and behold, Lucy was not even a one night stand, she rather was a one night brutal mistake and a big smack of my macho-man pride!
  By the time of this story Lucy lived in Gainesville permanently, working for NASA. Despite of our screaming out laud incompatibility in bed, we remained good friends. Right before I moved to Gainesville I gave Lucy a phone call. Once I arrived, she immediately used the opportunity to redeem the money that her ex boyfriend borrowed from her long ago and never paid back. With me in the equation, he could pay his debt through my rent while I was getting a cheap place to live. That"s how I got to Covered Bridge.
  We made an agreement that I would always give the rent money to Lucy, not to her ex. He was not supposed to see the money at all. Lucy knew him too well, to trust him even a penny. A lifetime loser, he was permanently broke. Each time my rent was due he started making circles around me like a shark, begging me to give the rent money to him and swearing on his life that he will pay her back in just a couple of days. I tried once and of course he never did. The guy was not a crook. He had rigor morals and a strong faith as a devoted Lutheran. However, his faith never prevented him from screwing people around. He"s been always scrounging around for favors, gifts and loans that he never paid back. He did not enjoy it at all, he rather suffered. He just tried furiously to weasel out some money to support his next miserable day on this fucking Earth. He was desperate!
  The poor guy"s name was Harald; in America he went by Harry. That fat pathetic German guy was incredibly featherbrained and ingenuously stupid, a total mess. Never cleaned his place, never even washed his dishes. He always hastily stacked his dirty plates and cups in the kitchen sink hoping that once he blocks the sink competely, I"ll have no other choice than washing his dishes first in order to wash mine. In fact, for a couple of weeks I did. Then I invented a new tactic. I started taking his dirty dishes out of the sink, putting them into plastic bags and piled those nasty bags next to his bedroom door with the sticky notes "WASH ME!" The pile was growing steadily until the entire two hundred nice plates and bowls that a caring German mother sent to her son from his "Faterland" ended up in a stinking barricade. Then Harry started using paper plates.
  He kept throwing his paper plates into the sink from where I automatically redirected them into the garbage can. He did not put them into the garbage himself because for that he would need to bend, open the little door under the sink, fold the plate and accurately put it into the can. Sometimes the can might happen to be full and he would need to tie up the bag, lift it carefully out of the can and take it to the dumpster about 200 feet away from the front door. For Harry it was an unbearable task.
  The guy was not really lazy. He just was in a deepest clinical depression I"ve ever seen in men. When you live in a free country where nobody wants you or needs you unless you vigorously assert yourself in the society; when you have to hustle around to support yourself; when you failed to accommodate to a different country and new culture; when you are in denial that your life is nothing else than endless humiliation and failure, when you subconsciously wish to die in order to avenge the cruel world for your misery but you are afraid of death, would you care about some dirty dishes or unpaid debt or anything on the entire planet other than your own plight?
  The poor devil was rotting alive in his stinky grimy hole in a complete isolation. The only person who called him from time to time apart from his parents from Germany, was his minister. A loser of the same caliber, he begged my accidental slumlord to donate some money to his God forsaken German Lutheran church. Harry was crying like a child into the phone, tears all over his unshaved puffy face, saying he was broke and needed support himself. Then he usually slammed the phone onto the receiver, ran to the bathroom, filled the tub with hot water and sat in there, masturbating for a couple of hours with squawking sounds out of his throat. I guess, this biblical juvenile exercise was his substitute for a Prozac pill he could not afford.
  Harry"s mail correspondence mainly consisted of the eviction notes but mystically he always managed to pay his rent at the very last moment and avoid the final kick in the ass. He ran a small Internet providing business which started dying since his senior American partner took his share and split. The business was still backed up by a dedicated and knowledgeable employee, who in fact was running the shop. Nevertheless, Harry would always find the way to mess things up, making Dewey - the employee - real mad. One time he forgot to change the address on the bill to his biggest customer. Sure enough, once the mail forwarding stopped, the customer did not get the bill and Harry did not get the pay.
  As a direct consequence, Harry did not have the money to pay his power bill and I had to live with candles for three days until Harry fixed the address, got the customer"s pay, paid his bill and of course, the re-installation fee.
  Every week Harry approached me, telling that he really must increase my rent. I always replied "No way!" He walked away but always came back in fifteen minutes, asking me to lend him a good chunk of money, or give him my next month rent right now. He was attacking me again and again, desperately trying to stick his fat fingers into my pocket.
  My reply was always the same - Harry, do you think that I stay in your stinky hole to make you rich? For a hundred bucks more I can rent my own place! I stay here only to save this fucking hundred because I want to put it aside to buy my own house a couple of days sooner.
  In fact, I found myself turning the tables and using Harry as a perfect training tool, to train myself how to have no empathy for losers; how to protect my own interests and never get tired to say "no!" firmly and vigorously hundred times in a row if needed; how to stay clean, active and upbeat, even living with the most rotten and desperate human being.
  Living with Harry was not my only training. I"ve been learning spoken English talking to telemarketers and sales people. I drove them crazy, wasting their time going through all the topics out of the ESL book, never buying anything even for a penny. I was asserting myself at work, doing one project after another. I was training my stomach to get along with American foods and drinks. They were really aggressive: each time I ate them, they in turn tried to eat me from inside. I was just looking around and tried to find the right place and fit myself into the new world.
  When I finally secured my job; when I improved my driving skills up to the level where I stopped hitting cars at parking lots and slipping away without leaving a note about my insurance that I could not afford; when I learned how to tell Chip and Dale from Micky Mouse and Tooth Fairy from Santa Clause, when I finally began to understand what comes out of people"s lips and passes for English in this divine country, when I realized that I managed to swim and not drown in the the strong current of American life, I found myself lonely and horny with no friends around.
  People over here were so much different, it was hard even to start talking to anybody. When I was about to move to America I hoped I would make there lots of new friends. However, in my new reality I was surrounded by human beings, yet I felt like Robinson on his uninhabited island. It was not just the language barrier or cultural differences that cast me away from the people around. It was so much more to it that I did not even have enough guts to think it through and preferred to live in voluntary and conscious denial, the only cultural shock absorber I could afford at a time.
  After work and on weekends I exercised riding my bicycle around the neighborhood. I kept my iron horse in my truck becuase my tiny room had no room even for such a small thing as a bicycle. One day some "faggots" (that"s how bad people are usually named in Russia) broke into my truck under the shroud of night and stole my bicycle. The guy who was putting a new glass into my truck was a really nice and friendly bloke. Of course, he was Cuban. We talked endlessly and he told me lots of new interesting things about life in the United States.
  He said that he loved Russia, that he had a good Russian friend in NY but somebody shot him in the back a couple of years ago and let him die in the street. Probably Russian mafia he worked for was dissatisfied with him and he got called for, as it were. He said that it"s very hard to be a registered sex offender in the United States and deal with the probation officers, psychological tests, physical examinations and tons of other crap. I ask him - I only know about "registered nurse" and "registered voter" but what is a "registered sex offender"? - He explained that a sex offender is a man who had an unlawful sex with a woman.
  I was so much surprised! - Say, the driving law is necessary because driving is dangerous. A driver can kill a person with his car. But why the fuck anybody needs a "fucking" law? A man can"t kill an adult woman with his dick! The best part of sex is that it"s unregulated!
  - Maybe in Russia sex is unregulated but here in the States it is overly regulated! For example, you can"t have sex with a woman against her will.
  - Even with my own wife?
  - Even with your own wife!
  - This is such a travesty! - I said. - You know, when you raise a child, you always have to force the child to eat. A kid often can"t feel hunger because his little mind is distracted by many other things. When you start feeding your boy against his will, he feels the taste of food in his mouth, realizes his hunger and starts eating by himself. Same thing happens to women. Very often a woman can"t realize that she is horny because she is oppressed by the society, religion and other crap. But if you warm her up against her will until she gets hot, she"ll willingly mount your dick and fuck you to death. It happened to me so many times!
  - Yes, I know. - Pepito replied. - It happened to me a lot, too.
  - There is even more to it, my friend. - I said. - The morals in Russia does not let women to engage into sex as easily as men. A woman should make things look like a man forced her to have sex with him, she is afraid that otherwise he"ll be thinking that she is a whore. Also, when a woman resist a man, she tests him if he really wants her or maybe he just wants some low hanging piece of ass to stick his dick into. When a man does not mind to struggle heavily on his way to his goal, it means that he feels for her. Of course if she does not want that man and he insists, she can always hit him really hard so that he stops completely at once.
  - Good for you! Things seem to be pretty straightforward in mother Russia! Would not say that at all about the States. Do you know how exactly I became a sex offender? It"s just one day I did a girl that I liked and she liked me. But I had no idea that she was only sixteen years old! She"d been willfully screwing not only myself but the whole neighborhood! She was soooo hot! However, the legal trap clamped shut right on my dick, out of all others. They decided to single me out and make an example out of me.
  - You said, she"d always screwed you guys willfully?
  - Yes, willfully, my friend. But if a girl is not fully eighteen, it is called "statutory rape" because the law makers think that only adult women can make a consexual sense.
  - You mean, have a consensual sex?
  - As a Russian man you should know that all women can have sex but none of them can make sense. Women are women, they never can make any sense and that is the beauty of it! But the written American law says that 18 year old women and older can make sense, just like adult men. American law says that only those can have sex who is able to make sense. Even if both have a mutual desire to have sex, which I call a consexual sense, and for that reason you think that you both have a consensual sex, the law calls it "statutory rape" because according to the law she can"t make sense. You got it now?
  - This is nothing more than weapon grade bullshit! - I resumed. - It is especially ridiculous because neither men no women make sense in this country! If you follow this line of thinking, you"ll come to a lot of wild conclusions! For example, I noticed that most mothers in this country don"t bother to cook for their husbands and children. They are sick on their heads, they think that kitchen is kinda slavery and humiliation! How do they call this shit? Feminism, right? Those sickhead fascist mothers do not breastfeed their babies to begin with. Then later they feed them with some canned precooked crap they buy in the store. They heat this shit in a microwave and stuff their poor children like a bunny rabbit. It is full of dangerous chemicals and stuffed with taste enhancers that cause addiction and compulsive eating. I"ve never seen that many obese children and teenagers in Russia! American mothers ruin their children"s health and raise obese neurotic gluttons! How would you call that type of cruelty to the minors? Statutory poisoning?
  Pepito nodded his head but did not say a word. Then I continued:
  - Let"s go on. Every Sunday parents take their kids to churches where they are taught that the Darwin"s theory is a lie and that the whole world was created in seven days. What is it again? Statutory brainwashing? They buy their kids football gear and bring them to a stadium where they bump their heads instead of using their heads to prove theorems, learn simple fractions, algebraic equations, proper spelling, world history and geography, physiology of mammals and lots of other things. Those stupid football Moms and baseball Dads are even proud of raising their children in complete ignorance and vainglory. You see, if you start thinking that way, all American minors are statutory fucked every possible way by their own parents, let alone the school system that does not teach them properly!
  - You think too rationally, my Russian friend. Cultural things are not rational, and this is a pure cultural thing. You think that American people are stupid and make no sense because Russian sense is very different from American sense. A couple of years ago I painted a house for a history professor. His wife fell for some guy from Connecticut and kicked her husband out of his house, accusing him of being gay. I was helping him to repair his little cabin by the lake. His father let him live there after he got kicked out of his own place. He was very lonely and talked to me on every occasion. I was listening, never saying a word back. You know, I was a dumb working guy, and he was a professor. It is hard to believe but he told me that in ancient Greece teachers were screwing their student boys in the butt regularly. And you know why?
  - Of course, for pleasure! - I said.
  - Yes, for pleasure. But not for the teacher"s pleasure! For the student"s pleasure, you see! The Greeks believed that the pleasure that the teacher gives to his students will make them love their teacher and that will give them a very strong motivation to study well. A teacher even could have been kicked out of school by the board for paying too much attention to his wife and not screwing his students enough! Again, this makes a perfect sense for old time Greeks but makes no sense neither for Russians nor Americans.
  - I noticed that in the States students have no motivation to study. - I said. - It"s not cool to idle at school but they do it all the time because nobody screws their butts. Everybody in America is convinced that studying must be fun. Why? In Russia every little kid knows that studying has nothing to do with fun. Studying is hard work. They always remember that if they get poor grades their father will be tenderizing their butt with a belt until the grades improve. A lesson can be only acquired by a child when it comes through its butt, the Greek way or the Russian way. It"s the only way to raise a conscious and knowledgeable human out of a little monkey. Americans don"t understand it. They even don"t bother to restrain their children from behaving like monkeys. If I ever tried to do what American kids are allowed to do at home and even in public, I would soon not have found even a dime spot on my butt without a bruise!
  - As I said, it"s a cultural thing. Don"t try to understand it rationally. All you can do is just suck it up for now. Once you get used to it to the point where you think it"s only natural, you won"t need no explanations anymore. - Pepito gave a long sigh. - One way or the other, I am branded lifetime as a sex offender. There is no way for me to redeem my life in this country because everybody is scared of me. There is no woman around who would willingly sleep with a registered sex offender.
  - Then go to Russia! - I said. - There are plenty of women in Russia who dream about a good sex offender! He does not even need to be officially registered, all he needs is to offend her hot and strong, again and again! You know, a lot of Russian men drink so heavily that they can"t even produce a decent boner. When those drunks finally decide to screw a woman once in a blue moon, their whole purpose is to borrow from her some money for more booze. As a result, we have a tremendous number of unsatisfied women, thirsty for anything that has a dick.
  Pepito sighed and shook his long furry pony tail from side to side. - Oh, man! I love Russia, I tell ya!
  - I know women are different in America. - I said. - In Russia women care most of all about family. They want to get married and have children. In America women care only about their own independence. They want to be independent from men, from sex, from their periods, from breastfeeding, from the kitchen, from their traditional gender role and self identification to a point where they completely cease to be women. My Russian coworker Boris said once that there are no women in America, there are only men with dicks and men with pussies...
  Pepito burst out laughing. - That is so true! But even those men with pussy won"t sleep with me. I am finished.
  - Come on! - I said. - You can always hire a street hooker! I saw a whole bunch of them while driving in the city.
  - They ain"t no hookers, man. - Pepito replied sadly. - They just dress like whores and spend their time in bars but they are nothing more than cock teasers. There are some who screw around but they do it at their own discretion: you can"t "hire" them. As you said, they are very independent.
  - Are there any real hookers around that you can hire? - I asked.
  - In fact, there are plenty of those, but using their services is against the law in the state of Florida. As long as you announce the price you go straight to jail.
  I said - Why?! Why is it legal for a woman to sell someone else"s alcohol in a bar to a complete stranger but renting her own pussy to the same man at the same time for an agreed price is illegal? When a man gets drunk he always wants a piece of pussy and he is ready to pay for it just like he pays for his drink! It is very natural. Why American law goes against the most profound human nature?
  - I don"t know, man. I reckon it"s just common hypocrisy. Those politician bastards try to show their high morals and family values at other people"s expense. One way to do it is to say that a woman can"t be treated like a piece of pussy because she is a human being, not a thing.
  - Bullshit, again! - I replied. - I saw them Mexican guys killing themselves working construction jobs in unbearable heat with no ventilation. Nobody cared that they are human beings!
  - You still don"t understand American life. There are very few areas in our social life where you are allowed to assert yourself publicly. This shit about casual sex is highly political because everyone in this country understands the word "fornication" but nobody understands "work somebody to death" until it happens to him in real life. With them Mexicans dying at the construction sites you would assert shit and ruin your political career. You have to fight with you competitors at the designated areas like women rights, gay marriage, abortions, prostitution and drugs. That"s it! The consequence is pretty simple: the law says that if you want to get a piece of pussy legally, you have to marry the whole pussy. Otherwise you have to jerk off: there is no law against it yet.
  - Bloody wankers! - I shot a long and nasty spit out of the window to show my disgust.
  - That sound very British! Are you British now, my friend? - Pepito smiled. - I thought you were Russian.
  - Wait! - I shouted as I was struck by the obvious idea. - I keep watching on the TV every day how those politicians screw around outside their marriages and eventually get caught. Why don"t they take back this hypocritical law and straighten up things for themselves? - I asked.
  - That I don"t know. If you really want to know the answer, ask a lawyer, but watch your mouth carefully! In America they hold everything you say against you.
  - You are the second person who"s saying it. - I smiled.
  - Who was the first?
  - Paul McCartney...
  - Paul is a great entertainer. - Pepito said with a good smile. - Although he has some problems with weed and what not. He just married that one legged bitch. You"ll see, she"ll divorce him pretty soon and shake him really well like a money tree. Be careful with American women, my friend! Do you have a girlfriend already?
  - No, I don"t but I"ve been thinking about it.
  - You are thinking right, my friend. Your English is still not very good. The best way to boost it in a short time is to screw an American woman regularly. Just remember, a snake charmer deals with snakes all the time but he never gets bit. You try to do the same.
  - Would you like to be my friend, Pepito?
  - I"d love to but I can"t. If I do become your friend, it"ll put you into a whole lot of trouble.
  - The thing that can put you into a whole lot of trouble In Russia - I said - is having a gay friend. Having a sex offender friend is okay but if you"re friends with a faggot, you"ll be regarded as a faggot yourself, and then you"re in a big trouble!
  - Your are in America now! In this country gay people are considered the best friends possible, remember! Okay, I see a customer coming in. Good bye, my Russian friend! Don"t try to see me again unless you need a new glass!
  I came home with a sick head, feeling that I am getting another sheer outbreak of a culture shock, not the first one and definitely not the last one.
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