bok

One day I arrived at the Tamarindo and there was a large wine and gray
colored car parked there. I started to set up as usual. I noticed that inside
that old car was a man who stared at me like a vulture. His crazy eyes made
me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to turn my back to him but I had to
because of where he was parked. “What did he want? Who was he?” I kept
thinking. While I was cooking the hot dogs he got out of the car and
approached me. I got nervous and felt uneasy. He had black hair, a wide
face, tan skin, and his body was enormous. His complexion was not good
due to his obesity.
He identified himself as an investigator of the UFO phenomenon. “That
damn word again” I thought to myself. He then formally introduced
himself (for our purposes, we’ll call him Mr. B). Mr. B told me he worked
for a local magazine that covered that subject, among others. He said that
word got to him that I‘d had an encounter with extraterrestrial beings and
that I even managed to take a picture of a ship beside a military plane. I
didn’t want to start this thing up again. I told Mr. B I knew nothing of the
matter, Martians, or any pictures. By the way he was dressed he didn’t look
like he worked for a magazine. From the moment he approached me with
his beggar appearance I didn’t trust him. I even thought for a moment that
he might be some CIA agent in disguise.
He insisted on the pictures and my experience. Again I told him I knew
nothing, that he was mistaken, and maybe looking for someone else. He
started to get on my nerves, I even lost focus of what I was doing. He then
got in his car and left. He had ruined my whole day. I spent most of it
thinking about him.
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