When i was 17 my mom refused to teach me how to drive in her car, so i took driving lessons. you know, the ones where they come and pick you up in those obnoxious cars that say student driver all over them like you're going to run over puppies and children if the people around you aren't warned that you're learning.
one morning a guy came to my door and i jumped in the car and started driving. he was asking questions about what i wanted to study in college so i told him either fashion design or psychology. biggest mistake of my drive, and keep in mind i almost ran a red light. the mention of psychology started a rant of how much this guy knew about serial killers. i don't mean common knowledge. we all know the infamous like ted bundy, david berkowitz, and charles manson but this guy knew every. single. one. he started down a list, in chronological order, of serial killers. not just names, but details. details the casual documentary watchers wouldn't really remember, like how richard ramirez liked single story yellow houses and how many siblings he had. we passed a post office and the instructor casually mentioned how that post office looked like one that a guy shot a bunch of people in front of.
as if being stuck in a car with the non-stop talk of serial killers wasn't creepy enough, i noticed we were driving down a long deserted road in porter ranch where there were less and less houses and cars. we drove down this road until it turned to dirt, turned around, and i drove home pretty much counting down the seconds until i was out of that car.
i always think, 'what a creep!' but doesn't it make me almost as creepy because i know all that stuff because of that instructor?
i've been watching a lot of criminal minds lately...
richard ramirez
No comments:
Post a Comment