The MUFON UFO Symposium

You know exactly what I'm talking about. Scores of strangely dressed people, some with aluminum foil antennae and divining rods, wandering with great and unexplained purpose about the lobby of the grand Omni Netherland. Folk with wild eyes and vacant smiles, more often than not engaged in heavy conversation with like minded skywatchers.

And the queen, Empress MUFON her ownself, draped in blue and silver with gistening black hair, reigned over all. In fact, she quite usurped my place as most exotic creaure in the room. I admired her for days, approving wholly of her multiple wardrobe changes throughout the long day, almost echoing mine in timing. How sleek she looked in her silky metallics, the crisp-edged garments glittering suggestively in the light of the many chandeliers.

I was miffed.

How dare she upstage me, this peddler of pseudo-science, this strumpet of the stars! Never in all my young life had I felt such bald competition, so I imagined. She strolled through her forest of supplicants with a goblet in one hand glowing with lab-created jewels, a calm, "ask me your future" smile on her gently aged face. This was too much.

I envied her all week long, and put more care into my appearance than ever before, which is saying something. I was known to spend hours on my toilette, and thought long and hard even before choosing the right pair of shoes. She was everything I wanted to be and more; how I hated her for it.

Then, the last day, she passed by me in the lobby. Concealing my attention, I watched her only out of the corner of my Great-Lashed eye, but she caught the look. Eyes as wide as mine and just as thickly Maybellined smiled as she spoke: "That's a beautiful blouse," just as calmly as you please. She walked on without another word, sparkling toadies in her wake.

I was secretly elated.