Everything I watch is about murder.

As much as I would like to, I can't take credit for this clever post title. Nope. That little gem came straight out of the mouth of my lovely mother. And she's totally, completely, 100% right. Unless I'm living out some indiscernible adolescent fantasy while watching Pretty Little Liars or Secret Life (shut. it. down. I know I'm 24. Just let me) then you can bet your bottom dollar the programming I'm tuning in to is dripping with death.

Literally, my DVR is overflowing with episodes of Criminal Minds, 48 hours, Dateline, Dr. G: Medical Examiner, Lockup: Raw, Law & Order, CSI, any/every thing that airs on Investigation Discovery, etc. Normal? Probably not. But my parents are the same way. So much so that the three of us sat and "discussed" the Casey Anthony trial for hourssss today. I know that's going on in living rooms all over the country (since-every-last-detail-has-been-televised-all-day-every-day-for-over-a-month...read: Christmas in freaking July!); But what's probably NOT happening in your house is that at different points throughout the conversation, not one, but EACH of us got confused and started injecting things in to the story that were actually the details of the untimely demise of some other schmuck that we watched during the commercial break. Or last night. Or last week? Y'all it's hard to keep up with that many people getting whacked. Whatever. Don't judge me.

I have a steady grip on reality. I'm a functioning member of society. And I'm happy to report that I haven't even the slightest desire to kill anyone (but just so we're clear, you'd never be able to pin it on me if I did. Forget this "I almost got away with it" nonsense. Just Sayin').

Anyway, the point (yes, there's a point to the story, and I'm getting to it. Please keep reading. I promise I'm not crazy). SO, now that you know I mighttt watch one too many not-so-family-friendly, viewer discretion advised moments throughout the week, you'll understand why I behaved the way I did in this week's episode of: I'm anything BUT a good Samaritan.

I posted last night about my inability to catch the elusive sandman and get some sleep. Well the midnight munchies set in and I knew I wasn't going to be able to ignore them. So I jumped in redcar and headed to Burger King (because even at 3 am I like to have it my way. Read: I'm changing my name to Fatty McFat Fat), even though it's not exactly located in the safest neighborhood. I order, pay, get my food, remain COMPLETELY aware of my surroundings (because I literally just finished watching this chick get snagged from a park in broad daylight and her screaming face was the last thing I saw on the TV before leaving my house on this little excursion) and try to leave. That's when I see it. The beat up oldsmobile with one functioning headlight, a duct taped on side mirror and the captain of the sketch squad sitting behind the wheel. I instinctively lock my door, but my window was still down from the drive through, so when he HOLLERED/honked at me (freak) I couldn't help but look in his direction (while simultaneously grabbing my mace). He steps out of his car wearing the sorriest excuse of a wanna-be-rent-a-cop uniform I've ever laid eyes on. Security Guard my ass. He was hunting for the missing piece of flesh for his serial killer suit and I wasn't about to be his latest victim. My momma didn't raise no fool. 27 red flags go off in my head as he starts talking to me.

The conversation that followed went something like this:

Jeffery Domer Captain Creepo: "Ma'am, I was sitting here watching this building..."

PAUSE

Y'all he pointed to the shell remnants of a K-mart shopping center that has been out of business since Clinton was in office. You can't make this shit up.

Play.

Me: Why are you "watching" an empty building?
CC: Because that's my job...
Me: Someone hired you to watch a building that's been empty since the 90's?
CC: Um, well, yeah. I guess.
Me: You guess? Well, Ok then. Thanks for clearing that up.
CC: Look, I was just sitting in my car with the lights on, and my battery died. Would you give me a jump? I have the cables and everything (He proceeds to hold up a wire that would not have charged his car...since it was an EXTENSION CORD) It'll just take a second.
**Red flag**20 red flags**redcar's engine starts humming stranger danger**WHY AM I STILL SITTING HERE??!**

Me: No, I don't have any shoes on (totally the truth). And you have a perfect view of the building from right there. I think you're all set. All you have to do is keep your eyes open. No need for a jump. Have a good night!
CC: Can you please just get out of the car and help me? I really want to cut the skin off of your face and wear it to my birthday party.

Ok. Maybe he didn't say the last part, but I swear that's what I heard.

I continued to tell him no and pointed to another random psycho sitting in a corner spot (waiting on his dealer) and said I was sure he would love to help him.

At this point Captain Creeper starts walking towards my car, and I got the sinking feeling the joke was going to be on me if I didn't get the hell outta dodge. FAST. So that's exactly what I did.

In hindsight he may have been telling the truth. Maybe he really was doing what he said he was and just needed some help. Unfortunately for him I think I have a knack for picking out sociopaths and I'm not in the business of being anyone's easy kill.

I may have lost a jewel in my crown for failing this WWJD test. But you know what? Thanks to my overly dramatic reaction at least I'll still have my head to put it on.

Better safe than sorry?



Ps. His name was Carl. CARL. His name tag said it all. He was definitely a murderer.