Real Estate Assassin Tourists from 2038 Can't Get Here Fast Enough

When I was five I really really wanted to have super powers. I tried doing everything those hero freaks in the movies and cartoons did. I would close my eyes and lift my hands up in deep concentration, believing I could use the force to raise my dog off the ground. My mom saw me doing this once and she thought I was pretending to be a blind little boy with a seeing eye dog so I got grounded. I tried sticking to walls like Spider-Man but that never worked and I fell down a lot from high places like the sofa. Although I wanted to jump off the roof and fly like Superman, I knew that wouldn't work because I was sure his powers came from his red cape and I didn't have one. Then after reading X-Men comics I realized my superpowers wouldn't manifest themselves until I was a young teenager because that's just how it worked in the Marvel Universe (which is apparently where I thought I lived). I waited in anticipation for my 13th birthday.

My teenage years came and went and I never got useful mutant powers like bone claws or running. Thankfully my imagination was extremely useful in deluding myself and I came to believe I had the ability to detect time travellers. Once I came up with that psychotic belief my life became wonderous and exciting and although I was a little bit paranoid about who those time travellers were and what they wanted, it was cool knowing I was a mutant. I guess the key to happiness for me was the ability to confuse subtle mental instabilities for ambiguous super mutant powers.

Have you ever thought that you saw a person or group of persons that seemed out of place? Like at some random point in your everyday routine you spot somebody that doesn't quite fit within the context of the place you are? I see people like that all the time. They trip me out because they seem to be observing me and they have this obvious way of diverting their eyes once I've noticed them. I have this theory that these guys are time travellers from the year 2038 and they're either a) tourists on a budget, b) suicidal assassins, or c) real estate agents running email spam operations. It is also possible they could be any combination of the three. I understand I don't really have useless super powers but I enjoy some mildly delusional thinking like this on occasion. I like to think I'm not crazy, I'm just giving crazy a test drive.

I've thought a lot about why tourists from the future would come to see me. If you could go back in time as a tourist I guarentee you'd want to experience great moments in history like the Gettysburg address or the moon landing or when Yoda lifted the X-Wing out of the swamp. But if I was running the time travel store, those would be the vacation packages I'd charge the most for. Consequently these budget minded tourists I see everywhere have picked packages on the more affordable side of things. If you wanted to observe some other random moment in the life of Lincoln or Neil Armstrong or Yoda the cost would be much less. So I think they've picked me to observe before I became famous for doing something incredible, which apparently happens in the future. Otherwise they wouldn't be paying good money to travel back in time just to see me walking to the gas station on a porn run.

It is also possible that I do nothing great in the future, which, looking at my life now, seems REALLY REALLY LIKELY. What's scary is that a lot of times I see these out of place future people that look like older versions of myself. Possibly I do something bad in the future that shames my family, like moving to Canada. In that case I think the time travellers are probably me or my children looking to kill me before I really blow it and make the future generations of my family Canadian. My dad tells me of my great-great grandfather, Portfolio De Anda, who lived with the other affluent De Andas in Mexico but who got bored with the life of luxury so he headed off to America and abandonded the family fortune to seek a life of travel and adventure. What an idiot! His wanderlust doomed me to my crappy existence now. I could be a rich corrupt Mexican policeman or something great like that. I should soo go back in time and beat his desperado ass right at the border.

Or judging from the spam I get, the future people are real estate agents from the year 2038. I've already written about those nutcases sending me mortgage refinancing emails although I don't own a house now. Apparently in the future, mortgage refinancing is a more lucrative business than tourism based time travel. It makes no sense but I'll admit I don't have it all worked out exactly. I don't have all the answers. This is how I know I'm not totally a paranoid schizo, but hot damn, 2038 can't get here fast enough for me to find out.

Without having actually talked with a future person, I've deduced just from their very existence that in the future I have a) done something fantastic b) shamed my family worse than this blog does already or c) put down money on a house. It is also possible I have done some combination of the three. I've decided that I will put my theories to the test and confront those future people the next time I see them. It's about time I try to leverage my future fame into some personal favors with the tourists. If I suspect they're assassins, I will hand them a little red cape and say "You know what to do." If they knowlingly nod then all of my suspicions will be validated in that instant as I fade from existence. But if I find myself in the likely scenario where the total stranger I've confronted is freaking out and looking at me like I'm some sort of weirdo, a different truth will be revealed and I swear I will scream "STOP SENDING ME THE SPAMS!"