The Moon Isn’t Real, Donald Trump is a Reptilian Alien, and Other Stories by My Lyft Driver

On Wednesday night, I arrived back in California after a short visit to Fort Lauderdale. A few weeks before, I was complaining to my boyfriend about how boring people in California are and that I didn’t have much to write about these days. Everyone I know works so hard to maintain an Instagram image and no one really seems to let their freak flag fly. Writer’s block was real and alive, because I mostly write about all my weird experiences.

I haven’t used Uber in years, because between the former CEO and 103 sexual assaults reported against drivers this year, why would I? I ordered a Lyft as soon as I got off the plane and made my way to the curb to meet Raimen. At this point in time, the only issue I had to take up with Raimen was that his name sounded like ramen, which reminded me that I was hungry.

He helped me with my luggage and had a very quiet, yet nice demeanor. When I got in the car, he asked me how my flight was, except in a voice that was so soft, you would’ve thought he was putting a baby to sleep. His voice sounded like a mix of ocean waves and an old radio cutting in and out.

The Lyft ride was going to be about 40 minutes long, so while I normally don’t get jolly with ride-share drivers, I decided to strike up a conversation so things wouldn’t be too awkward.

Not only were things about to get awkward, they were about to get straight-up delusional.

We spoke a bit about New Zealand, because I was telling him I’d been on much longer flights. Out of the blue, Raimen said something that sounded like, “____________ …. ____… _______…….. Ancient Aliens.”

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I leaned over the console to make sure I heard this correctly.

“Did you just say Ancient Aliens?” I asked, because I honestly couldn’t hear him.

“Yes,” he responded, but didn’t give out any unwanted information.

“I don’t know about all that,” I said, but then decided to test the waters a bit. “Wait, do you believe in aliens?”

It was like Raimen had been praying to God every night for the past 47 years for someone to ask him this question. His alien theories had obviously been shuttered away and locked deep down inside his soul after what I imagined was something like a Thanksgiving incident involving his father flipping the table after he brought up the Reptilians for the 150th time in one hour.

“Oh, yes. I absolutely do. I saw them. Their space craft. It was enormous with four huge lights beaming down on me,” his tone and voice changed immediately to reflect his excitment.

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I’ve heard other sane people talk about aliens in this manner, so I wasn’t concerned yet. Some people believe in these things, so who was I to judge?

“Wow, that sounds incredible,” I told him.

A couple of seconds of silence passed between us, and then Raimen decided to really go for it.

“You know, aliens, they look like you and me. Except they have six fingers. They need an extra finger to harness their energy with. They can create magnetic fields with their hands and have the ability to transport people to different areas of space if they need to,” he said in the most serious voice I’ve ever heard.

I still wasn’t scared. Everyone’s been down a wormhole of alien conspiracy videos on YouTube before. I just suspected he had done the same, until he said:

“The moon. Yes. It’s not real. It’s been planted there by aliens. The aliens that work with the CIA. Aliens don’t trust the CIA, so they are watching us from the moon. When the astronauts went to space and landed on the moon, they had a conference to discuss the fact that the moon could not be inhabited. That’s why we don’t go back to the moon anymore and we go to Mars instead. Thankfully, the 30-foot giants are extinct, but they’ve found evidence of them there. Inside the moon, there’s tunnels and a space station for the aliens to live in. On the other side of the moon that we don’t see, there are five breeds of aliens living there. It’s not a good situation. Just like it wasn’t for the dinosaurs,” he continued on a tangent of epic proportions.

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“What happened to the dinosaurs?” I shouldn’t have asked, but needed to know.

“There is a bad type of alien called the Reptilians. They came down to Earth and they ate all the dinosaurs, which is why they are all extinct today. I mean science can’t explain these things. The Reptilians are horrible. They can control people’s minds telepathically,” Raimen dutifully told me.

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^ Google image search of a Reptilian. 10/10 in the Illuminati. 

He took a deep breath like he was about to tell me something big.

“Look. Aliens, they’ve been coming here for years. Not just in the 1960s. They actually met George Washington and Abraham Lincoln at the White House. People don’t know this, but they bring on war, destruction, and they control the minds of our political leaders.”

Technically, the White House hadn’t been built yet when George Washington was president, but logic or facts weren’t a large part of this conversation any way. Thank God I was able to hide my smile in the dark of the night, because I couldn’t get the image of George Washington in a powdered wig sitting down to sign a treaty with an alien who was like, “Look, we will help you build America, but only if you agree to let us spy on you in the moon for the next 1,000 years.”

“Like, Trump? I’m pretty sure he is an alien,” I joked.

“Yes. He is. He’s a Reptilian. How else would he have been elected?” he asked.

It was a good question and one that I honestly couldn’t answer.

“I mean, just look at his eyes. They are the eyes of a reptile. He isn’t human,” Raimen argued, but didn’t really have to convince me.

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I didn’t even need to ask about Mark Zuckerberg.

“A few years ago, Obama, you know him? He was going to leak information about the five types of aliens. He had already set up the press conference, but cancelled at the last minute because the Reptilians came down and said, ‘If you dare speak of this, we will transport you to another universe this instant.’ He cancelled, because he knew they would kill him.”

I actually had to cover my mouth to stifle a laugh on this one, because I couldn’t help creating imagery for everything he was saying. I imagined an alien barging into the Oval Office, saying, “Look here, mother f*cker. If you speak a word of our existence, I will use my six fingers to make you disappear into a black hole. Capiche?” and then just immediately walking out and slamming the door behind it.

In that situation, I see Obama being totally stunned, picking up the phone and saying to a receptionist, “That meeting about the aliens? Yeah, let’s just cancel that one.”

“So, what’s the first question you’d ask an alien if you met one?” I asked.

He took a second and laughed, as if it was the most absurd thing discussed in this conversation.

“I guess I probably wouldn’t say anything. I would just bow and want to touch fingers with them, because they communicate telepathically. But, I’d say that I would not be scared and I’d want to meet one,” he admitted.

“Do you believe in other things like Bigfoot and ghosts?” I continued firing away.

“I mean, Bigfoot, yes. He lives in the mountains of Georgia. That’s a fact. Ghosts, probably not. I just believe in energy. Not really like a spooky, scary ghost,” he replied.

Okay, wait. So, this guy seriously, hardcore believed in aliens and Bigfoot, but not ghosts? I was so lost.

We approached my driveway, as I was prepared to roll out of a moving vehicle if needed. He put it in park and began telling about this app called Gaia. Raimen started scrolling through the app, trying to show me more articles on aliens and being aware of the things around us that we’ve ignored. As I got out of the car, I noticed the car door was locked and I panicked a bit. He quickly unlocked it, and offered to give me his username and password for the site so that I could research it myself.

“I think I’m just going to go to bed,” I replied in a friendly manner, but one that also acknowledged I was freaked the F out.

He laughed and told me not to worry about the aliens, and just keep living my best life. As I walked towards my apartment he literally yelled out (or in his voice, just calmly stated), “Oh, and 9/11 was an inside job!”

That night, I was convinced Raimen would break into my house somehow and tell me more about aliens. But was his passion for our extraterrestrial friends just a cover up? The more I started thinking about his bone structure and eyes, the more I was convinced I had just met an alien. For instance, he was tall. Unusually tall. His brown eyes were almond shaped and large. Worst of all, he looked like Ted Cruz.

One might even go to the extent of saying he sort of looked… Reptilian.

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