Part I

"You speak Klingon." We were back at my friend's house and she was seated on the couch looking at me with her eyebrow raised. "Yes. Not very well, it's a harsh language and I don't enjoy speaking it as much as I do Vulcan." "I can see why; I haven't heard anything so creepy since Gollum and his 'precious'. Wait, did you say you speak Vulcan? I thought that Vulcan's spoke English." "We do, but we also have our own language." "Say something." "Dif-tor heh, smusma." "What did you say?" My friend asked. "Live long and prosper." My friend started laughing. "What's so funny?" "It's just, (ha ha ha) you hear that all the time and to see you say it, its- (gasping) really funny. You said it so serious! " "I don't see what is so amusing. It is simply a farewell; not in the least worth laughing at." The look on my face set her off again. "Will you teach me Vulcan? This could be really fun!" "You seem a difficult student, your laughing fits would not help you and speaking Vulcan is not for 'fun' you learn it to study the ancient histories of the planet." I said in all seriousness. The pursuit of fun seemed a life long task on earth and is not embraced by Vulcans.

"Please!" "No." "Please!" "I told you-" "Please?!" "Kroykah!" "What?" "Enough!" "Then will you teach me?" I sighed, I could tell this was a losing argument and any attempts at a diplomatic refusal would be in vain. "Fine." My friend started cheering. "On one condition." My friend stopped. "What?" she asked suspiciously. "You will teach me more about earth culture." (Better to end an argument with an appeared agreement then flat out defeat.) "Oh, is that all? Ok!" Humans are always so enthusiastic. I was glad I chose this tactic. If used on Vulcan, that statement would have started an hour long argument.

My friend said we had to 'shake hands' to show that we were in agreement (again that would never happen on Vulcan, fifty pages of contract is more effective) and then said she was going to bed.







*******



My friend took me to the grocery store to show me the food they use on earth. She said she would buy things for dinner and then I would have to make it. (To experience earth culture, but it was really so she wouldn't have to make it.) Their produce is odd. It comes in all shapes and colors and the smell is not often pleasant. Since she knew of my abhorrence to meat, we quickly walked past that section of the store, but not without seeing the revolting packages lined upon the shelves. We also went down the candy aisle. Candy is one of the most ubiquitous foods in the grocery store. They have aisles devoted to it and then smaller racks of it to tempt you as you leave the store. As one who could never see such excitement in food. (Why eat when you could be doing something useful?) Was not very impressed with the candy aisle. The colors are vibrant the smell sickly sweet and the rows upon rows of it are dizzying to the eyes. But, as we walked past the end of the aisle, I smelled something wonderful, dark and kind of chalky. The object was brown and wrapped in foil. But, I was unable to inquire what the object was because my friend hurried me past to go to another end of the store.



Back at my friend's house, I proceeded to give a tiring lesson on the Vulcan language. It took many hours and many attempts, but my friend is starting to comprehend the Vulcan vernacular. Even I was impressed by her quick understanding of the language.
Teaching me how to prepare food was another matter. I do not like to touch food with my hands so my friend (while calling me a wimp) said she would put it in the pot and I would have to stir it. Simple enough... until the pot overflows. The phone rang while I was cleaning up the mess and my friend went to answer it. When she came back, she looked troubled. "That was Mark, he said he wanted to stop by, but I told him it was almost time for dinner. He said he would bring dessert and then hung up." Wonderful. I thought, my first experience with earth cooking and I would have to share it with this miserable creature. My friend must have noticed the look on my face, "Hey! I didn't invite him! I don't want him here anymore than you do." At last! She was finally starting to see what was wrong with this guy. I smirked to myself, my presence here was bothering to this young man and would upset any of his plans. His quick temper and sudden outbursts could provide fascinating entertainment for the evening.

****
The door bell rang. My friend told me to stay in the kitchen and went to answer the door. Mark walked in with the air of someone triumphant, not heeding of his forthcoming doom. "So you finally got rid of that weird guy?" I heard him say. "Good thing, he was giving me the creeps." "Well, actually-" "What are you making for dinner?" He got up and went into the kitchen stopping dead. "Oh." I gave my best attempts at a smile, "Nice of you to join us." He quickly put down the bag he was carrying and left the room. I glanced at the bag. That same strange smell was coming from it. I crept closer and looked in. It appeared to be some type of bread, cut into squares. It had a similar brown color to the object at the store, but was darker with different shades. "Are you ready to eat Spock?" My friend called from the other room. I quickly jumped back to stirring the pot, the unnerving feeling at being caught at something thudding in my ears. "Are you ok Spock?" My friend asked me, coming in. "You look kind of green." "Oh, what? Must be from the steam. Vulcan blood is green you know, it's because we have such a high copper level." I babbled. "Uh huh." My friend said still staring at me. We dished up the soup and put it on the table. The meal went on in silence; Mark eating sullenly. The food held little interest for me. I was still contemplating what the strange package was. "This is really good." My friend said, trying to start conversation. I nodded, Mark said nothing. The tension built. I suppressed the desire to smile. It finally cracked when my friend told Mark that she was trying to learn Vulcan. "Isn't that some made of language that Star Trek losers speak?" Mark asked. "Yes, but I don't see why you would call them 'losers'. It's really fun. Like pig Latin or something." Mark just snorted. My friend turned to me, "Ish-veh ni komihn." I choked on my soup, I was laughing too hard. My friend had just said, "He is so human." Mark remained unmoved. "What did she just say?" he asked me. "T'l kilko-srashiv kitok-wilat." I told my friend. (He must look elsewhere for his answer.) My friend laughed, "I'tah tehrai k'etwel." (He shall not find it here.) Mark started to turn red. I turned to Mark and held out my hand, "Nahp-hif...-bi tu throks!" (Your thoughts... give them to me!" My friend bent over laughing, I was enjoying this.
"You guys are a bunch of freaks!" Mark shouted."I'm leaving and not coming back until you get rid of this creep!" Mark said storming to the door. "I'm afraid that will never happen." My friend said, a laugh twitching on her face, "Spock always has been and always will be my friend." Mark growled something, did a defiant Vulcan salute and slammed the door.

"Oh what a shame." My friend said after we had stopped laughing, "He left before the brownies."

To be continued.....