Living Next to a Serial Killer: A Love Story.

Well, we are about three quarters through the year, and what a year it's been.  We have already survived:


A devastating earthquake,

TO DONATE TO VICTIMS PLEASE CALL ME DIRECTLY

a Kardashian wedding,

DEFINITION OF MINIMALIST

and finally, the breakup of J LO and Marc Anthony .

ACCURATE DEPICTION OF THEIR SEX LIFE.

It says a lot about our nation that we can make it through these devastating tragedies together.  Way to go Team America.

AMERICA... LIKE A BOSS. 

So with that being said...there has been something looming like a dark cloud over my fantastic year of 2011.

 " 'SUP WHIT... TELL ME YOUR TROUBLES." 

I am convinced I live next to a serial killer.



I know I know.  "Yeah right Whit,"  I can hear you all say.  "Don't exaggerate."  I will share with you the following details and you tell ME I won't end up on an episode of Criminal Minds before I'm 30. 

If I go missing, and you find out it's not because I've run away to Hollywood with Vince Vaughn, than please be certain I am probably trapped in a basement and need to be rescued swiftly.

  PLEASE MAKE SURE THE LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICER THAT FINDS ME RESEMBLES THIS MAN.  THANKS.

Chapter One: The Meet and Greet.  

"HEYYYYY NEIGHBS...."

I have two neighbors directly next to my humble little abode.  I am fortunate to have an AWESOME neighbor, we'll call her "Kitty" across the street...and then beside me I have one of the most mysterious and creepy people I have ever encountered. 

The following story is 100% true.  

A few months ago I finally decided to mow my grass (or let's be honest here... get it mowed for me) and have a big oyster roast.  It was legit.  We had tons of food, I went back to college days and made PJ, and the drink ratio was about 20 to 1. 

POP 'DEM BOTTLES

Anyway, that night we all had a ball.  So the next day, a few of those closest to me came back over to finish the rest of the oysters and have a little Sunday Funday.  Not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon, chilling out on your back porch with your best friends.  It was all daffodils and unicorn farts until my "other" neighbor peers over the fence and...

PAUSE.

Now let me back up.  The previous day I had walked over to said neighbor's house to inform them that I was having a party.  It's always good to be curtious to your neighbors, and it also helps to have a good rapport so they don't call the cops if it gets a little too loud out back.  Now until this point, I had never met them.  In fact, I had never SEEN them until that weekend.  So I walked over and THIS is what is parked in the front yard...

"HEY KIDS...THERE IS FREE CANDY INSIDE.  ALL ABOARD."

What you cannot see is the windows that are COVERED IN BLACK PLASTIC GARBAGE BAGS.  Cause that's totally legit. 

"I'M ON TO YOU DAHMER" 

So I wander into the front yard, under the massive amounts of brush and thorns guarding the front door... and give a little knockity knock. 

FOR THE SMALL PRICE OF YOUR LIFE YOU CAN TRIM MY NEIGHBOR'S HEDGES! 

So I speak to the mother who was cute as a button.  So nice- told me "No worries, have fun".  Awesome.  So we do.  Rage all night Saturday and we are back for more Sunday afternoon... mid oyster... when this guy peers over the fence...

YEAH, HE'S PROBABLY SINGLE. 

In introduces himself and tries to weasel his way over for a beer and an oyster... no dice Dahmer.  Now, I am polite and a littttttle uncomfortable, but I endure our fence face time because if Criminal Minds has taught me anything, its to NOT piss off your neighbor who could potentially slice you up and turn you into part of his women's suit.  

"OH YOU HAVE A DOG TOO?  WE HAVE SO MUCH IN COMMON." 

So after about ten minutes he wanders back to Creepy Corner and I go back to having fun with my friends.  

Chapter Two: Two Hours Later. 

Creepy McCreepster is back.  With stories.  Great.  He keeps trying to come over and hang out.  I DON'T. THINK. SO. 

Oh and get this... I later discover his name is Chester.  Swear to God. 

IF I FIND OUT HE DRESSES UP LIKE A CLOWN, CONSIDER ME DEAD BY NEXT MONDAY. 

My neighbor then proceeds to disclose some random "facts" about our cul-de-sac.  Because not all of you speak "Serial Killer Lingo" like I do, I will tell you what he said and then tell you what it REALLY means.  

STATEMENT ONE: "Our houses are built on an old Indian burial ground."

DAMN I HOPE THE ANIMALS IN MY BACKYARD TALK LIKE THEY DO IN DISNEY MOVIES. 

WHAT IT ACTUALLY MEANS:

 "Any bones your dog randomly finds in the backyard are 100% from the people I have murdered in the last year but I don't want you to be suspicious." 

"AHHH, YEAH BOB, WE HAVE WHAT APPEARS TO BE A 28 YEAR OLD FEMALE AND AN OLD MICHAEL JACKSON CD OVER HERE." 

STATEMENT TWO: "We have a coyote problem around here." (as he holds up a small ball of platinum blonde hair)

JUST ANOTHER DAY IN THE WILDERNESS OF COLUMBIA SC.

WHAT IT MEANS:

"I have been secretly collecting random strands of your hair and want to scare the shi*t out of you by letting you I have been watching you since you moved in...".

or....

"I have a little girl trapped in my basement and think you're a big enough idiot to believe that coyotes have platinum blonde hair."  

"WHAT. THE. F&CK. IS. GOING. ON. HERE."

STATEMENT THREE: "I used to have a pet wolf back in my shed." 

THIS KIND OF WOLF...

 NOT TALKIN ABOUT JACOB BLACK, TWILIGHT PEOPLE. 

WHAT THAT MEANS: 

"I'm batshit insane." 

YEAH BUDDY, AND I RIDE THIS TO WORK EVERYDAY. 

So after I crapped my pants a little and turned around looking at my friends like there was no tomorrow... they somehow rescued me and got me back to the other side of the yard...away from Ted Bundy II.  

Balls of hair?  Serial killer van? Delusional? Explanation for finding potential body parts? Check. Check. Check. Check. 

"MA'AM, I'M NO SCIENTIST... BUT ALL SIGNS POINT TO YOU BEING SERIAL KILLER BAIT." 

I'm sleeping with one eye open.  Wish me luck friends.