It's kinda pitiful. They think they're passing as humans, but to anyone with half a brain, they might as well have a flashing neon sign on their heads saying "ALIEN!" with one of those animated arrows like they used to have on motels, pointing down, down, down, down. Which is what I see, because I do have half a brain. I think I lost it in a accident, but the irony is that the half of my brain that knows what happened is the half that's gone. But back to the aliens. I often try to make contact with them, because it's an interesting topic, plus they might be less likely to kill me when they turn on us humans. I usually break the ice with, "Do you come in peace?" but they invariably pretend they don't know what I'm talking about. And then they get all antsy, I guess because they're afraid I'll rat them out. But I try to alleviate their fears by saying something like, "Don't worry. I don't have any immediate plans to kill you. The bacteria we have here will probably get you anyway." But they're so fearful of exposure that they get even more avoidant and try to enlist neighboring people to aid them, not realizing that we humans will stick together when push comes to shove. So to avoid a total meltdown -- and what do I know, I could mean that literally! -- I'll usually return to my table, but not before passing on a bit of free advice, sotto voce. "Listen, guys," I'll say discreetly, "I know all about the anal probing stuff, and that kind of thing won't go over too well around here, so just ix-nay with the uttholes-bay. okay?" I don't know if aliens speak pig latin, but wouldn't it be cool if they did? That's why I try to make contact with them, you always enrich yourself by learning about other cultures.