Recently, a large group of us English Counseling Office interns (lovingly known as the Natov Squad), new and old, went out to Boka, a Korean restaurant in Manhattan with amazing fried chicken and even better liquor (not that I would know, I didn’t have any because I’m a Christian thanks).
It was a night filled with great food, great friends, and an amazing energy. But near the tail end of our escapade, which went from the Korean joint to a Vegan bakery until finally pooling in Washington Square Park, I discovered something quite troubling about one of the interns not in attendance.
For the most part (excluding Brayan, because when you get some liquor in that guy he is freaky… so I’m told), the consensus seemed to be that the new additions to the Natov Squad have proven themselves to be semi-normal. And even if they’ve done things that are… questionable, one could easily chalk their behavior up to very mundane, human things. But there’s one intern that statement doesn’t apply to; an intern who sticks out from the rest like a beautiful, bedazzled sore thumb hitchhiking across the galaxy; an ever-elusive intern who mysteriously never seems to be available for any of our group outings. That intern is none other than… Richard Gonzalez.
You see, ever since he first graced us with his idiosyncratic presence, I’ve been deeply intrigued by Richard, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. Was it his off-kilter sense of humor? Was it his boy-band-esque good looks? Was it the way his piercing, terrifying gaze buries itself in your soul? I wasn’t sure, until this past Friday night.
When the group of us were hanging out at the park, enjoying our desserts, no one could really pinpoint what it is about Richard that’s so… unique. So I got distracted, and my mind began to wander into galactic territory (as we’ll see, Richard’s terf). I began to mentally jump from planet to planet, star to star, meteorite to meteorite, in a sort of spacial trance, escaping the mundanities of the park to figure out the Richard Conundrum. And then, without warning, Richard’s face apparated in front of me, the size of a whole new planet, and spoke to me:
“Isaiah… Always a pleasure, my good sir… Welcome to my humble abode… Not gonna lie, I still haven’t even started Feed yet… sorry, I’ll get that back to you ASAP… Anyway… Give me a high-five dawg… I know, I know, I have no hands, don’t think too deep into it… Where’s the piano?”
At first I was freaked out. Who the hell gave Rich permission to invade my brain? How dare he! But then it hit me. This was a hidden message from Richard himself! A floating Richard head in space claiming it was his home?! How could I not have seen it sooner?!
I told myself to think about it: Richard is always ‘busy’ at night, he vaguely alludes to the cosmos on any given day (or blog-post), he’s devilishly handsome but has an otherworldly glint in his eyes that scares most people, and an extensive Google search of him will turn up empty (not that I’ve done this, just guessing). All of this led to one stunningly obvious conclusion:
RICHARD IS AN ALIEN.
The realization hit me like a UFO crashing into Wisconsin. The answers to my burning questions about this enigmatic intern had finally been answered! Immediately, I was tempted to reveal my discovery to my fellow interns. But I figured they would laugh it off, call me insane, and continue talking about earthly matters.
They wouldn’t understand you, Richie, old pal. But I do.
I got your message. Your giant ass head spoke to me, and I listened. Don’t feel afraid to be who you truly are, in all of your extraterrestrial glory. I accept you.
It’s okay if you need to cry. Bring it in, pal. Aliens deserves love, too.
Signing off with love,
-IFR
(Editor’s Note: The writer of this piece has been missing for three days.
Richard Gonzalez is also missing.)
The Junction Journal 