The Alien Invasion is Coming

Those of you who are my friends, or who have been following me for a while, know that I love a good adventure almost as much as telling the story that follows.  When I grow up, I want to be the Dos Equis guy.

Over the long weekend, my family and I had decided to head to Paracas, a tiny coastal town about three hours south of Lima.  We looked forward to spending some time on the ocean, but the primary goal was escaping the hustle of the city.

Without a clear plan of activities, we headed straight down to the beach behind the hotel, to walk along and enjoy the ocean.

That was when we discovered the first signs of alien invasion.

A half-dozen orange jellyfish, or malaguas (It means “bad water” in Spanish), were waiting for me just a few feet into the shallow water.  They obviously had some way to communicate with the others, who had told them that I would be coming, and to send reinforcements.  I should clarify that I am not talking about the wispy cute little jellies that you see in the zoo.  These had heads about two feet across, with tentacles between four and six feet long.  This is what the invading force had sent for me.

Part of my obsession with this particular species of alien is my quest for payback.  In late December, when I first tried surfing with my family, I encountered one of these evil beings while paddling out to catch the next wave.  I basically stuck my hand in the middle of the thing, and was stung mildly on the left hand.  It hurt a bit for a few hours, but served to teach me that I didn’t want to get wrapped up in one of these things.

Since one definition of “sense of adventure” is the lack of the ability to leave dangerous stuff alone, I began searching for a stick, and found a piece of plastic pipe about two feet long.  My children and I approached one of the beasts with caution.  The tentacles swirled around it with the current, so timing would be important, I didn’t want to step on one of those.

As the slow, almost invisible wave turned the jelly’s weapons away from us, I stepped forward and poked it with the stick, jumping back immediately, since I wasn’t sure what kind of psychic abilities it might have to sense my location in the water.

It did nothing, so I poked it again, and dragged it a few feet to the very edge of the water, so I could stand on the sand and torment it further.

Still it did nothing, which made me suspicious, and I looked around for signs of reinforcements.  Once it was out of the water a few inches, I poked it again, and even lifted one of the tentacles with my stick, er…I mean my war club.

I had tried to pick it up with said war club, but there were two things that prevented that.  First, the lack of solid structure meant that its body would either not be supported, or it might tear.  These things look exactly like jello that is cooked just a bit too long and has gotten a little rubbery.  Secondly, they are heavy, and you wouldn’t think so, but I estimate this one weighed about 10-12 pounds, more than a full eight-pound jug of milk.

Enter the real villain in this story – a little girl.  She was the child of one of the guests at the hotel, and spoke Spanish and English with equal precision.  Obviously, she was a trained operative.

This little girl walked right up to the alien and almost stepped on it.  I blocked her with my stick, and told her to be careful.  She stepped around my stick and slapped the alien on top of its head.  Splat.

I again to her to be careful and not to touch the tentacles.  She then said something to me in Spanish which I’m pretty sure meant “stop acting like such a little girl.”

She then lifted one of the tentacles with her bare hand, lifting almost to her shoulder height before the weight and the sliminess of it pulled it from her grasp.  She obviously had some kind of peace treaty with the aliens, and this was a trick to get me to touch it.

“It’s dead.  It can’t sting you if it’s dead, silly.”  (In little girl language, “silly” means “stupid *$#@% idiot.”)

I still don’t know how she knew, but I expect this is all part of a broader conspiracy.  I am sure the aliens will be back for me.