What's He Doing in There?

In Short

This story is a sharp, humorous take on the "first contact" subgenre of science fiction. It avoids grand space battles or world-altering politics, choosing instead to focus on the absurd misunderstandings that arise when two cultures collide in a suburban home. Through the lens of an anxious anthropology professor, the narrative explores the comedy of errors inherent in interpreting alien behavior through human biases. It remains a classic of the mid-century era for its wit, its tight pacing, and its clever subversion of high-concept science fiction tropes.

The Story

The story opens with a cultural anthropologist—the Professor—welcoming Earth’s first Martian visitor. The Martian, who has prepared for this meeting by watching television and radio broadcasts, seems polite and eager to adapt. However, he quickly asks for the location of "it," a vague request that the Professor and his wife correctly interpret as a need for the bathroom. The visitor retreats behind the door, and the Professor, delighted by the discovery that Martians share human biological taboos, waits for him to emerge.

As time passes, the mood in the house shifts from academic curiosity to nervous confusion. The Professor’s children, a son and a sharp-witted daughter, monitor the door, reporting that the guest has been inside for an unusually long time. The sound of running water triggers wild speculations: perhaps the Martian is succumbing to Earth’s gravity, perhaps he is a shape-changer, or perhaps he is planning something nefarious. The family’s initial hospitality curdles into paranoia. The Professor, terrified of causing an interstellar incident but increasingly convinced that his guest is in distress, refuses to call the authorities to avoid government interference.

Instead, the Professor’s son creeps outside to peer through the bathroom window. He reports that the Martian is simply floating in the bathtub, his nose barely above the water, seemingly asleep. The family is horrified, interpreting this as a potential suicide or a sign of an impending threat. They decide to maintain an "honor guard" outside the door, spending the entire night huddled in the hallway. They are terrified of the unknown, projecting their own fears and cultural anxieties onto the silent, locked door.

At dawn, the mystery concludes with a disarming revelation. The Martian emerges, refreshed and cheerful, dressed in the Professor’s own suit. He expresses confusion as to why the family spent the night on the floor instead of sleeping. He explains that his study of human television led him to believe that humans regularly sleep submerged in bathtubs—a practice he considers a sign of great prosperity on a water-starved planet like Mars. He apologizes for the misunderstanding, which he assumes was a social blunder. The Professor, scrambling to save face, insists that they were merely keeping a formal vigil of esteem, successfully masking his night of panic with the veneer of diplomatic grace.

How It Unfolds

The arrival The Professor welcomes the Martian visitor, who is polite, humanoid, and eager to learn human customs. After a brief conversation, the visitor asks for the bathroom, leading the Professor to marvel at the existence of shared cross-cultural taboos.

The long wait As the Martian remains locked in the bathroom for hours, the Professor’s family begins to speculate about his motives. The atmosphere darkens as they wonder if the visitor is dying, plotting, or undergoing a mysterious, dangerous transformation.

The vigil Unable to verify the Martian’s safety without breaching etiquette, the family decides to wait outside the door all night. They endure a tense, sleepless vigil in the hallway, fearing the worst while trying to maintain their composure.

The morning reveal The Martian exits the room, appearing perfectly rested and happy. He reveals that his "strange" behavior was simply an attempt to follow what he believed were standard human sleeping habits as seen on television.

The People

The Professor serves as the story’s anchor, representing the academic mind that seeks to categorize and understand everything. He is desperate to be the first to document the Martian's habits, but his professional obsession is constantly undermined by his own anxiety and the practical, often cynical, observations of his family.

His wife acts as the voice of domestic realism. Where the Professor sees a groundbreaking anthropological specimen, she sees an intruder with a strange complexion who might embarrass them at a faculty reception. She provides the necessary skepticism that heightens the family's shared dread.

The son and the daughter serve as the catalysts for the story’s tension. The son is the adventurous observer, providing the group with the "intelligence" gathered from the window, while the daughter provides the dark, imaginative humor that turns a simple bathroom trip into a scenario involving potential shape-shifting and international scandal. Together, they force the Professor to confront the absurdity of the situation. By the end, they all remain largely the same, though the Professor is forced to trade his scientific dignity for a desperate, face-saving lie.

In Its Own Voice

The Professor was congratulating Earth's first visitor from another planet on his wisdom in getting in touch with a cultural anthropologist before contacting any other scientists.

The Professor’s academic pride sets the tone for the encounter, positioning him as the gatekeeper of this historic event.

"Maybe he softens in water and thins out after a while until he's like an eel and then he'll go exploring through the sewer pipes."

The daughter’s darkly imaginative speculation highlights how the family’s anxiety rapidly spirals into the absurd during their long wait.

"It's true I had some doubts last night, wondering if I'd used the right words and all, but then when you rapped 'Good night' to me, I splashed the sentiment back at you and went to sleep in a wink."

The Martian’s polite, literal-minded explanation reveals the tragic, comedic irony of the entire night of terror.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the fallibility of human perception. The book argues that even the most educated among us—like the Professor—are prisoners of their own cultural context. When faced with the truly "alien," the characters do not find objective truths; they find mirrors. They project their own insecurities, superstitions, and household anxieties onto the visitor. The story serves as a gentle satire of the scientific method when applied to human behavior, suggesting that we are far more likely to interpret the unknown through the lens of our own fears than through unbiased observation. It is a story about how the familiar and the strange are separated only by a wall of misunderstanding.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy character-driven science fiction that prioritizes wit over technical jargon will find much to appreciate here. It is a brisk, clever piece of writing that functions as a domestic comedy as much as a space-age fantasy. The prose is sharp and efficient, reflecting the mid-century style of short fiction that favored quick punchlines and sudden, ironic resolutions.

Modern readers might notice the dated gender roles and the specific, mid-century domestic structure of the Professor’s household; these period attitudes are baked into the story’s DNA, as the family dynamic is the primary engine of the conflict. The humor is dry and observational, occasionally verging on the slapstick as the Professor struggles to maintain his academic detachment while his family effectively "spies" on a guest. It is a brief read, perfect for an afternoon, and it leaves a lasting impression regarding the hilarity of human ego. If you enjoy stories that poke fun at the pretension of "experts" and the irrationality of the suburban middle class, this will resonate. It is not a sprawling epic, but a focused, biting, and ultimately warmhearted look at the small ways we fail to communicate, even when we are trying our absolute best.