Serial Killers

I’ve never actually thought that I could possibly, one day be murdered by a serial killer. It was never my greatest fear. My greatest fears are closer to having a wolf bite off my hand or being eaten by piranha in a swimming pool.

Last night I was bored. This is not good because the old saying is true, “idle hands are the devils play things.” It wasn’t actually the devil that tempted me to do this. It was just my own curiosity. I made an eharmony profile. I only used my middle name, but I did fill it out honestly. All the while making fun of the questions. It reminded me a little of those forwarded emails people used to send that said, “fill this out and send it to all your friends or you will die a horrible death.” At the end of the extremely long list of rating myself, I came to found that I had 7 matches within a 30 mile radius of my hometown. I read some of their profiles, but I couldn’t see their pictures or contact them without paying the piper. Like I would actually do that. So I left it.

Then, as I was now again bored with nothing to do, I thought about it. They could see my picture if they were paying customers… They know my hometown… They know my middle name…  They know the bare minimum of who I am… What if one of them is a serial killer?! I kept telling myself that was silly because they really don’t know anything about me, but it kept gnawing at me like a rat gnaws on a cacao pod. I would never actually pay the fee to meet these men anyway so what do I need it for? Then I deleted my profile so serial killers couldn’t find something out about me, find me, and hide in my attic until they decided to kill me. After that I watched Kiss the Girls. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. And that night when I turned off my lights and went to bed, I also locked the deadbolt on my door to make sure that tonight I would not be murdered in my bed.