Xan xim zom tom rom shuppa tablada samy eyoko takara
The girls here are beautiful. All different shapes, shades, and styles. I love… what do they call it? Oh yes, I believe I overheard someone say “Diversity”. Back on my own planet Xanahr, with a silent H, all the girls look the same and all the girls look like boys. The way to recognize a female is by their lack of a 37th tentacle. When I arrived on earth In this city I was entranced by the tall spaceships that don't fly, bewildered by people stuck in screens with prices on them, confused by the small vehicles that roll along the ground making loud honking sounds, and unerved from the people yelling unknown words at me, I had disguised myself to look like one of them. The problem was that as normal as I looked, the girls didn’t seem to enjoy me.
Today was a rough day. I had decided to use some of the words I had learned. I was walking next to Macy's and I saw an old white man, make a “tweet twwwwwwww” (whistle) sound with his lips. It sounded like the first of 576 mating calls people make on my home planet. He followed that by saying “Ayoo Shawty come here and get this treatment”. Shawty, if that was her name, punched him in the face. This must be a part of the mating ritual I surmised. When I repeated this processes, I got the same result, but I had no way of knowing whether it was the right result. I approached another lady on the corner “Hellooooow sweet thang,” I said, repeating the word I had heard earlier, and again the response was violent. This resulted in the damage of my favorite tentacle, number 26. She was beautiful, but it hurt. I began to wonder if I could survive these strange mating rituals and whether, if I discovered the secret rites of courtship, I would experience pleasure in female companionship.
I was discouraged. While I was surrounded by diverse beauty, I had no way of knowing the hearts and minds of the girls I encountered, and no idea about what I should or should not do. The girl I encountered next would change all of that. I recall how her hair was flying in the wind, glowing, and decided that I could not miss my chance. On my native planet, we begin courtship using a distinctive walk consisting of a series of dips, bobs, and turns. I decided to try using this female-catching walk on the one with the glowing hair and she laughed. On my home planet the males follow the distinctive walk by showing their 37th tentacle but I was reluctant to do this. I clearly didn’t understand the females of this planet and said as much to her. I explained that I had tried to emulate the actions of other men I had observed, but was always met with violence. She asked me to describe these behaviors and after I recounted them, she explained that, on this planet, it was wrong to treat women like that-- like objects, things without thoughts or feelings. Her words hit me like a train and made my world spin.
I hadn’t been observing rituals of courtship at all but something she called harassment. I couldn’t understand why males of this planet would treat their female counterparts this way. Clearly there was nothing to be gained from doing so. Perhaps harassment did not exist on my planet because telling males and females apart was nearly impossible; however, maybe harassment didn’t exist because we cared for each other. She invited me to come with her, and we actually just hung out. It felt more like courtship on Xanahr, and she explained the ways to approach the women of her plant respectfully. I understand now and I am hopeful for the future.