One day I got a text inviting me to reply "for a good time."

Yeah, right, I immediately thought. They sent this to me and a few million other guys.

But I read on. The text said that the message was not spam, but was specifically for me, and so was the $100 in the jacket I wore yesterday.

Yeah, right, I thought again, a little leery of the idea that someone had been watching me and knew what I was wearing. But I checked, and… I found five crisp $20 bills.

It would be fair to say that my jaw hit the floor. I was pretty sure I hadn’t left that there yesterday -- I hadn’t put it there yesterday -- and had no idea how it could have got there.

But… could it have been a coworker or someone else who could have slipped the money into my pocket during my workday, while I was away from the desk? But why would they do that?

I quickly concluded it was a coworker, or a group of them, playing a prank. Most of them make more money than I do, and could afford to put $100 into a prank. I figured what could it hurt to play along?

With that in mind, I responded to the text, asking what kind of fun, and if the money was a gift or a deposit.

The response was immediate: “It was only supposed to be a gift, a sign of goodwill, but if you want to see it as a payment that’s OK too.”

I chuckled, and asked what I’m supposed to do.

The response asked if I’d be driving, walking, or taking public transportation. To where? I thought. I still didn’t really know what was going on, so how could I answer that without knowing what was really going on? I started to say I’d be on the bus, but then I figured I’d rather be able to leave on my own rather than be dependent.

“That's fine,” was the response. “Drive over to the cafe next to the new college building on Fifth Avenue. There will be a white Ford F-150 SuperCrew truck right in front of the restaurant entrance, with its flashers on. Park behind it, and you’ll get further instructions.”

“OK,” I responded, more as an acknowledgment than a commitment to… whatever this was. I made no promises, since I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to do this or not. Finally I decided I would go, just then realizing the texter never told me when to do this.

I texted back, “When is this supposed to happen?”

“When do you want to do it?” was the response.

“How about right now?” I asked, with a laugh. By this point most of my coworkers were on their way home from work, if they weren’t there already. I figured I’d get some hemming and hawing about doing it another time, or on a weekend.

But the response was “Now is fine. See you soon!”

Wow. I thought I was calling their bluff, when they called mine. Now I'd have to go through with it. I went downstairs and got into my car, just then realizing I was insistent that I’d drive when the meetup point was just a few blocks away. But like I’d reasoned earlier, better to have my own car there, so I could drive away from… whatever, instead of being dependent on whoever was doing this to get me back home.

I drove over, noticing the truck as I approached it from the other side of the street. But as I drew closer, a bus and then a tractor-trailer kept me from seeing who was behind the wheel.

I made a U-turn and pulled up behind the truck. My phone dinged as I put the car in park. I hadn’t even notified them that I was there.

“Good,” the new text said. “Leave your car’s engine running, and get into the truck.”

Leave the engine running? Around here? Now I was pretty sure it was a prank, but by someone unfamiliar with the area. The dress store across the street was closed and gated, though, and the church-run daycare next to the store was closed also. So were the handful of businesses on my side of the street. At least I didn't see lights coming from any of them. Not too many places someone could be spying on me to know I was there, except for whoever was in the truck.

I opened my door and got out, but I stood there and looked around, holding the door as I did. I didn’t see anyone who seemed to be watching me. In fact I didn’t see anyone period. No one to come running up and snatch my car, leaving me at the mercy of whoever was in the truck.

I stepped clear of the door, looked around again, then shrugged and closed it. As soon as it closed, the doors locked, and the truck’s blinkers stopped blinking, switching to a solid brake light.

“Hey!” I said, pulling on the door handle, to no avail. Then the horn honked and the bright headlights flashed… but there was no one at the wheel.

Oh well, I thought. I’m invested in this now. I have to keep going along. That’s when I realized I didn’t see anyone through the truck’s rear window. But it was a crew cab, so I thought maybe the driver was too far away from the window to be seen from the back, or maybe bending down just so I couldn’t see them.

I stepped onto the sidewalk, but I didn’t go right to the truck’s doors. I just stood and stared back at my car, wondering how whoever was behind this was able to take control of it without being inside. Until the engine revved, which I figured was a signal to get on with it.

I approached the truck, and the rear passenger door swung open. It opened slowly enough that I should have been able to see an arm pushing it open, I thought, then kicked myself. If they could take control of my car remotely, they might have automatic door openers or something on the truck too.

I leaned in through the open door, still hesitant. I saw no one inside. Now the truck’s engine revved as my car’s headlights flashed.

I climbed in, and the door closed itself behind me. I was sitting on a bench seat. The front had bucket seats, with a console between them. A fixed plastic partition right behind the driver’s seat pulled down maybe six inches on a fixed track as the overhead light behind it switched on.

My phone rang. The caller ID actually said “F-150”?! I answered it.

“Hello,” said a cool female voice. “Would you like any refreshments?” I heard a snapping noise next to me. I looked down and there was a small cooler swinging open, with bottles of beer and soda on ice.

“Um, thank you?” I said, hoping this was an offer and not just a tease. “I guess I’ll take a beer.” I reached for one but a bottle of Bud Dark hovered out of the cooler, its cap twisting open as the bottle tilted itself toward me.

I just stared at the hovering bottle. "Go ahead, it won't bite," the caller said, sounding like she was holding back a laugh.

“Thank you,” I said into the phone, as I took the floating bottle. I had a bunch of questions swirling through my mind, as you might imagine, but I started with “Can I ask, why me?”

“Sure, you can ask that. And the answer is, why not you?” she said with a chuckle.

I didn’t have an answer for that. But there was one more thing I wanted to know right that minute. “My caller ID said ‘F-150.’ Am I actually speaking to this truck?”

This time the response was outright laughter, not only over the phone but right there in the truck. It seemed to be coming from the driver’s seat, though there was no one visible seated there.

“That’s hilarious, hon,” she says, much more warmly than earlier. But when she spoke her voice came from inside the truck. I looked at the phone, but the connection had ended. “I’m just gonna let that one marinate for a while before I offer a reply. In the meantime, you should buckle up.” I turned to reach for the shoulder belt, but it pulled itself out and across me, attaching itself to the buckle on my left.

The truck’s brake pedal pressed down as the console shifter switched to Drive. But before the truck pulled out, I saw my car pass by us, and there was still no one behind the wheel. The truck pulled out and followed my car, the steering wheel and pedals being operated… remotely? Invisibly? I didn’t know, anymore than I knew how she was controlling my car. But for the moment I decided to take her hint and keep my questions to myself.

I did wonder what that $100 was for, though. I couldn’t help thinking that since she paid me, maybe she’d be the one having a good time --- the text wasn’t specific...

(Thought about ending it there but no...)

"Do you want anything to eat, hon, before we get on the parkway?" the voice asked. We were approaching a stretch of road not far from the highway with plenty of fast-food places and gas stations, a good place to fuel up the car and the driver. The whole time I was still stewing, trying to figure out just what was going on.

"Tell you what," she said, as the truck pulled into a gas station, right behind my car. "If you tell me what you want after we gas up, I'll get that for you. Otherwise, I get to pick, and you have to eat it. Deal?"

The driver's door opened before I even had a chance to reply. It wasn't an offer; she was telling me how it was going to be. My car's driver's door stayed closed, but both fuel-filler hatches popped open. The nozzles hovered away from their tanks and into each vehicle.

"How…" I started, before deciding I wasn't going to ask the obvious question of how she was doing all this. "How are you paying for this?" In New York you gotta pay beforehand if you pump the gas yourself -- in most places. She just pulled up and started pumping, into her car and mine.

"Don't worry about that," she replied. "I got that covered. What you need to be figuring out is what you wanna eat, so I don't wind up feeding you... wood chips or cat food or something."

I wasn't really hungry but I also wasn't interested in calling her bluff. "I guess a Subway sandwich would be OK," I said, watching all the various objects -- fuel pump nozzles, funnels, bottles of various fluids -- moving around of their own accord.

Immediately some other movement caught my eye. There was a figure approaching dressed head to toe in shiny black material. Well, collar to toe, since the neck opening was empty.

"Looking good, sexy!" the voice from the truck called out. The outfit stopped and turned toward us.

"Thank you," a voice replied, as the outfit struck a pose.

"Don't you think she looks sexy?" the voice from the truck asked me. And I did -- this shiny jumpsuit was curvy and nicely shaped, with matching shiny black gloves and boots.

But I didn't answer right away -- I'm not in the habit of calling out random women, even curvy lookers like this one. Plus I wasn't convinced I was dealing with a woman here.

"Well? Don't you?" the voice prompted. I figured I'd better answer.

"Yes. Yes, I do," I answered, rather awkwardly. I'd never been comfortable as the center of attention, but now I was sure that the entity driving these vehicles and the one in the shiny outfit were both focusing on me.

"Well," the voice said, "don't tell me, tell her!" And for her part, the suit was approaching, shiny black hands on her hips.

"Um," I started, staring at the suit's chest.

"Obviously you like what you see, " the outfit said. “Why so shy?"

"It's just that," I started. Then, thinking I might as well spit it out, I continued. "It's just that I'm not in the habit of… of cat-calling women -- especially unfamiliar women."

"Is that what you're worried about?" she said. She put a shiny black hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry. I like being called sexy, and hot, and all the other stuff you guys come up with. If you're worried about all the fuss over harassing women, well…" She leaned closer and whispered, "I'm not a woman."

I could feel warm breath on my ear as she spoke, but the collar was close enough to make it plain that there was no solid body in the suit.

I must have had A Look on my face, because she quickly added, "Female, yes, more or less. But not a solid like you."

The voice from the truck chuckled. "See how uptight he is? I'm taking him away to show him a good time, see if I can get him to loosen up. Care to join us?"

The suit laughed this time. "I was on my way to Best Buy to find myself some company. I wouldn't mind tagging along with you guys."

"OK," the first voice said. "So I'm guessing you'd like to ride with us, and not in his car."

"Wow, you got his car too?" the suit said, leaving me to marvel at the fact that, somehow, she seemed to know she was not dealing with an invisible human. Maybe somehow they can… see one another, or something?

I had to stop thinking, I was getting a headache…

"Yeah," the truck voice said. "Not that I had to, but I didn't want him worrying about his car being towed or stolen or anything while we were… having fun. And I thought I'd play with his mind in the beginning by having his car lead the way, even though he could see there was no one in there."

By this time both autos had filled their fuel tanks, and the nozzles had been put away.

* * * * *

The convenience store's door swung open, and out stepped a curvy blue canvas mechanic-style coverall, also empty-collared. Not nearly as tightly stuffed as the shiny jumpsuit appeared to be, but curvy in its own right.

"Excuse me," said a low-pitched female voice, coming from the space above the coverall's collar. "But is this guy bothering you?"

The two voices making plans for me laughed. "No," the jumpsuit said. "Not bothering me at all. In fact, I'm about to go hang out with him and his friend here."

There was a bit of a pause, and I felt like the coverall was sizing me up. "OK," she finally said. "Just wanted to make sure. Can't have some guy harassing a customer."

That made me do some quick figuring in my head. I just got out of a car that gassed itself up, while this jumpsuit was literally just passing by. Yet somehow she's a customer and I'm just some guy? Something was going on here that I wasn't privy to, something bigger than just these three non-solid entities…