I didn't have time to write anything so I dug into my files. My deepest apologies for what I dug up.

A BONE TO PICK
                       

When James said he had skeletons in his closet, it didnt really bother me. I mean, we all have nasty little secrets that we dont want the general population to know about, right? And James was funny, and charming and really, really, really good-looking, so I didnt mind the odd little personality quirk. Three weeks after I met him, I learned that the skeletons were real.

I admit I ignored the clues. Even on our first date, there were subtle hints. We went to Antonys, that classy steak place. He ordered his steak rare. No big deal, right. But he never actually ate it. He charmed me with extravagant compliments, entertained me with droll stories, and paused from time to time to stab at the steak and watch the blood ooze out. But I was too busy floating in the deep blue pools of his eyes to pay too much attention.

Then there was the flaming waiter incident. Our second dinner date was at that classy French restaurant, Dangereuse, all glittering chandeliers and soft European music. They had these candles in glass bowls in the middle of the table, and James accidentally put ours out while blowing a kiss to me across the table. So he summoned the waiter to relight it and as the waiter struck one of those long matches, James picked up the candle bowljust holding it to help the guy, you know--but his gripped slipped a little and the bowl overturned, pouring wax onto the waiters sleeve. And then somehow the match ignited the waxand poof, waiter flambeau. It was obviously an accident and James was terribly upset, but there was something odd about his expression. Like beneath the regret there was this sort of--excitement.

James sent me an e-mail inviting me to his place for dinner on Halloween night so that I could help him hand out goodies to the kids. As he prepared dry ribs in the kitchen, I casually looked around his place. When I pulled open a desk drawer, I found clippings of every story published in every newspaper about several girls who had gone missing in the city in the last few months. I figured he must be one of those true crime enthusiasts.

I was getting pretty hungry so I munched on some mini chocolate bars in a bowl by the door and then I realized that no kids had come trick or treating. In fact, I realized no kids would come, because he lived on the 8th floor of a security apartment. I felt kind of annoyed and was going to tax him with lying to me for no good reason, but I didnt want to irritate him before I got my supper so I decided Id just look around a bit more. I opened the closet door, and thats when I saw them, all smooth and white and grinning. I felt a hand press against my back.

Its dark in this closet. Im starting to think that when James invited me to his Halloween feast it wasnt as a guest. Boy, do I feel stupid.



What distinguishes procrastination today is the sheer variety of distractions and diversions at hand - Hara Estroff Marano - Psychology Today