An alien, the window, and the hot dog

Greg still wasn’t sure if the burrito was good or bad. He took another bite, chewed, and then he swallowed. Still, nothing. It wasn’t bad, he thought to himself, but it also didn’t seem good. He had been eating the same bacon, egg and cheese burrito from the cart outside his work for six months now, and he still couldn’t say if it was good or bad. It wasn’t that Greg couldn’t taste anything, it was just, he couldn’t tell if the taste was good or bad. He figured that if he kept eating the same thing long enough he would be able to get an idea, but that hadn’t yielded any results so far.

He shrugged, finished the last bite, and tossed the wrapper into the trash bin beside his desk. Then, he worked. The papers came, and they went. When he ran out, they brought him more. He filled out forms and sent the emails he was required to on his computer. Greg didn’t feel strongly about his work, it was fine, he supposed. He was good at it, at least. That was according to his coworkers, not Greg. He had no reason to not believe them, so he did. His boss also seemed to be pleased by his work. Greg thought this because he had noticed that he would often go to his coworker’s desk and bring back papers they had done, and he would often be quite loud about it. Greg couldn’t remember the last time the boss had done that for him. He assumed that was a good thing. That made sense to him.

Soon the workday was over. Tina, his coworker, said bye to Greg on the way out, so he said bye back. Tina seemed to be nice. That made sense. Soon he was on the platform waiting for his train to go back home to his single-bedroom apartment. Once he was there, he would heat himself up a frozen dinner. He wouldn’t be hungry, but he knew you were supposed to eat dinner around that time. Then he would be on his computer for the rest of the night, where he would either play video games, watch videos, or live streams. Oftentimes the videos or streams he watched were just of other people playing video games as well.

“I wonder why that is,” Greg thought to himself, as he waited on the platform. “I don’t particularly care about those people, so why do I watch them? What’s the point exactly?”

Soon Greg found himself squeezed into a spot clutching a pole towards the back. He found himself frequently bombarded by the neon lights of the city as the train sped along its tracks. Then before he knew it he was observing the people around him. He didn’t know why but this was becoming a common occurrence for him, as he looked all around the crowded train car, searching. Searching for what he did not know. He just knew that the scene around him felt, strange. Out of place. He could not give a reason but that was what he felt every time he observed this situation. The car was packed with people, and most of them appeared similar to Greg himself. They kept quiet, kept to themselves - occupying themselves on either their phones or listening to music.

“They all stand surrounded by other people, yet they all stand entirely alone.” Greg wasn’t sure if that made sense or not as he thought it to himself, but somehow it seemed the best description of the scene.

Greg didn’t know why the scene intrigued him so much. Greg didn’t know why that description seemed so accurate to him. He also didn’t know why he found himself paused in front of the under-construction skyscraper that he passed on the walk back to his apartment. It was the biggest building on this side of the city, and it looked to be almost complete. The outside appeared nearly finished, with barely any scaffolding left and just a few empty spaces where there should be windows at the top. And Greg stood right in front of the doorway to this building. Greg looked around and saw no one to either side of him. This street was unpopular at this time of night. The skyscraper appeared entirely deserted, with the construction workers normally packing up several hours before. He had never stopped here before, he usually just passed by with a cursory glance. Yet here he was, tentatively reaching his hand forward to push open the door to this abandoned castle, and open it did. In Greg went, and he had no idea why.

---

“What is he doing?” Xandith whispered urgently to himself as he watched his case study human enter into an empty construction location. Xandith had watched the human Greg take this exact route to his dwelling every day for three years, seven months, and sixteen days in Earth standard time. Not once had he ever strayed. The alien hurried to follow him, his form invisible and silent as he moved down the street and into the Earth construction.

The human Greg was the eighth specimen Xandith’lominar, intergalactic researcher and scientist, had included in his study of humans, titled: Behavioral Patterns of Earth’s Primary Sentient Species. So far he had intrigued the scientist to a great degree. Xandith was fascinated by the peculiarity of the subject. He seemed to act contrary to what much of the earlier research of humans had suggested. Most research of the humans of Earth had characterized them as “Intensely driven by emotional urges and holistically bereft of the capabilities requisite to form a highly functioning society”, an excerpt from Professor Dasinar’s study of Earth three-hundred years ago, the currently most detailed research of Earth culture contained in the Intergalactic Scientific Research Federation’s archives.

Yet Xandith’s observations of the human Greg had contradicted much of the earlier research that painted humans as lifeforms with largely violent and unpredictable natures. Greg was almost mechanical in his habits and movements, and it was this aspect that had brought Xandith to the human.

But this was not the predictability that the scientist had come to expect from his case-study. This was complete randomness uncharacteristic of Greg.

“What IS he doing.” Xandith whispered to himself as he followed the human up flight after flight of stairs. He of course did not have to actually whisper as his cloaking technology rendered him completely silent to all outside observers, but the alien just couldn’t get used to the idea of being able to shout whilst hidden among a crowd of a species unaware of his existence.

Then the stairs ended, and they were at the top of the construction called a skyscraper. Xandith stepped out into the open interior of the building’s top floor, searching for his research subject. And then he saw him. There he was, clearly outlined against the bright backdrop of the city skyline, as he leaned with arm against the large windowsill that opened into the cold, night air.

“What is he doing there? What is he doing?” Xandith’s mind swam with the implications of the human’s actions. He soon settled on the likelihood with the highest probability given the circumstances and his knowledge of human behavior. The human Greg is going to end his existence.

Unaware of the reason why, Xandith began to panic. This was, of course, uncharacteristic and inappropriate of an ISRF researcher. Xandith was here as observer only, and he was not to interact with the humans under any circumstance. Xandith knew this. He had witnessed the deaths of several humans already. Xandith could not interfere. This too would be included as part of his research, and he could either choose to conclude his study of Earth or find a new specimen to observe, as clearly outlined by the protocols. He knew all this, and yet…

“Wait!” Xandith cried, his cloaking mechanism deactivated and replaced with the disguise that made him appear as a regular human.

Greg the human rapidly turned his body towards Xandith, his face taking a shocked expression. He brought his hands up in front of him in what Xandith had learned to be a gesture meant to indicate innocence and peace.

“Uh, I, sorry, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be here. I’ll leave right now.” He brought his hands down and slowly began to walk away from the ledge.

Xandith was a fool, he thought to himself, as he reeled at the implication of what he had just done. His supervisor would have his head if he found out about this. But… he couldn’t just stand idly by and watch. He realized that somehow he had grown attached to human after observing him for all this time. He wondered why that was. He had observed many humans before Greg and had not experienced anything like this.

Xandith took a moment to collect himself, breathing in and out deeply. Then thought to himself, Now that I have put myself in this situation, I must finish what I have started.

He walked forward and brought himself to stand directly in front of the human, then, entirely panicked and unsure what to do next, the alien brought a shaking hand up, and after a moments’ hesitation brought it to rest on the human’s shoulder. What followed was a moment where neither side said anything. Greg looking down at the hand on his shoulder and back towards the stranger with a look of confusion, and Xandith, sputtering for words, finally spoke:

“Are, you.. okay?”

It was such a simple question. Not elegant in any way shape or form. Yet it gave Greg such pause. “When was the last time anyone asked if I was okay?” he thought to himself. He searched and searched yet he could not remember the last time someone had asked him that question. He looked at the man who currently held his shoulder, he looked up at the un-finished ceiling above him, then he looked out at the night to his left.

Who was this stranger? Greg had no idea who he was and yet, he had some inexplicable desire to be honest with him.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“You… don’t know?” the man replied.

“Nope. No idea honestly.”

Another moment of silence passed. The man removed his hand from Greg’s shoulder and began to gesture toward the space in front of the unfinished window, then said,

“Would you… like to sit down and talk about it?”

For the second time that night, Greg was dumbfounded by this stranger. He thought about it for a moment, then replied,

“Sure, why not?”

Then slowly, and a little awkwardly on both sides, they settled themselves on the floor facing out towards the open night sky. The two of them just sat there for what seemed awhile, and it was the stranger who broke the silence.

“So, were you… going to end your existence?”

Greg was a little surprised by the wording of the question, he had never heard anyone say it quite like that, but he knew that’s what it had appeared like. He was not sure what had brought him up here tonight, and he was not sure exactly he was doing out there on that ledge a few moments ago. He thought about it, and he thought hard. He focused harder than he had on anything in a long time. Then finally he spoke,

“No. I wasn’t going to. Yea, the idea was there in the back of my head, but I don’t want to die. It’s just, well… I don’t know.”

He breathed in and let out and exasperated sigh, then continued,

“I just… don’t really feel like I’m living either, you know. It’s hard to explain, but I don’t know how else to put it. I thought, maybe, just maybe, standing out there on that ledge like that would make me finally feel something again. But no, nothing”

The stranger peered at Greg with a strange intensity; his head cocked to the side. Greg was pretty sure he murmured what sounded like “fascinating” under his breath.

“So what’s your name anyway?” Greg finally asked the man.

“Xand- uh, I mean … Xan. My name is Xan” he spoke back.

Greg cocked an eyebrow at that, “Xan huh? Haven’t heard that name before. I’m Greg.”

The man called Xan was what seemed awfully solemn for a moment, then looked up at Greg, “It is nice to meet you Greg.”

Greg leaned back onto his elbows and peered up at the night sky.

“So, Xan. Tell me. What do you think it means exactly? To be human, that is.”

Xandith was shocked by the human’s question. “Does he know?” He thought to himself. “No it is impossible, but why would he ask me so directly the exact topic of my research? Could it be, perhaps, this human and I are in search of the same answer?” Xandith looked at Greg again. This time he truly looked at him, and he saw not just a research specimen, but something quite similar to Xandith himself. A lifeform in search of answers. Xandith had been on Earth for so long now. He had observed so many humans. He had so many hypotheses of what constituted being human, yet he could not find sufficient evidence for any of them. Alone he had toiled to find his answer for so long. Perhaps, this human could help. Could give him the answer he had sought for so long.

“I have several hypotheses” Xandith replied. Greg turned toward him with a curious expression on his face.

“Humans – uh I mean, we appear to be subject to a large variety of driving forces. For example, family: the urge to procreate and protect said offspring. This, however, is not unique to humans and is behavior exhibited by many species. Society is another interesting possibility, but although humans seem capable of adapting more advanced societal structure, they again are not unique in their desire to be social creatures that function best in large groups.”

“Uh-” Greg tried to get a word in, but Xandith did not notice and continued on.

“Emotions and passions are also a common hypothesis, I however am most partial to the view that all emotions stem from the fear of death and the desire to leave a lasting legacy beyond death, in a feeble attempt to immortalize oneself. This, also in turn being the driving force behind the desire for family.

“More interesting though, in my opinion, is the hypothesis of language and writing. Humans, while albeit not entirely unique in their ability to communicate with other members of their species on Earth, are the only to exhibit communication via transcription. This is interesting because it in turn provides the possibility for interpretation, giving unique meaning to the same words across generations, and also in a weak sense immortalizing the writer.

“And finally -” Xandith held up his index finger, turning to look at Greg, who sat with his jaw wide open.

“Quite possibly most compelling, is humanity’s dual nature. Its great capacity for creation, but also its incredible capacity to destroy all in its wake. Creating massive cities, curing deadly diseases and making noteworthy discoveries in biology, physics, and chemistry. Yet, simultaneously maintaining vast gaps in currency among its people and the persistence of what many claim to be inhospitable conditions and inequality, but they are maintained in some way or another in perpetuity.”

Xandith finally stopped to catch his breath, turning over to look at Greg. The human had a look on his face that Xandith had not yet observed on him. His study of expressions led him to believe that it was a look of confusion.

“Did I… say something wrong?” the scientist asked.

Slowly, the human’s stomach started to move in rapid succession, the corners of his mouth turned upward, and he then leaned back and began a large bout of what humans called “laughter.”

After approximately fifteen seconds, Greg ceased his laughter, brought his hand up to wipe water that had leaked from his eye, and replied

“Ha, ha, oh. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that. You’ve done some thinking about this before huh Xan?”

“I have considered it.”

When was the last time Greg laughed so hard? When was the last time he laughed? He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Of what he was doing here, of what Xan had just told him, and of being human.

“C’mon. Let’s get out of here. You hungry? I am”

---

They stood beside the hot dog cart that was outside Greg’s apartment building. Xan seemed not quite sure what to do with his hot dog. He had unwrapped it partially but was just kind of poking it and sniffing it.

“So what is your answer Greg?” the strange man asked him as he continued to poke at his food.

“To what?” he said as he squeezed ketchup.

“Well, to what it means to be human. I gave you my response, what is yours?”

“Huh,” he stopped right as he was about to take his first bite.

“You know, I’m not really sure.” The other man seemed to deflate at Greg’s answer.

“But” Greg continued. Xan perking right back up.

“I think maybe it’s a little bit different for everyone.”

Xan seemed slightly taken aback by this and made an expression that seemed like he was thinking, but it didn’t look quite right.

“Fascinating, I had not considered this,” he said, with what seemed like a bit of awe to his voice.

“Alright, enough of that, now eat your damn hot dog” Greg said. Finally, Greg brought his hot dog up and took his first bite, chewed a little bit, then stopped cold, dropping his hot dog to the ground.

“Greg, what is wrong!” Xan asked concerned.

Greg slowly turned toward him, and replied, “This hot dog fucking sucks.”