Several weeks ago, Christina at Solitary Mama blogged about serial killers, specifically, how to tell if the guy you are dating/are out on a date with RIGHT NOW actually is one. This is crucial stuff, especially in these modern times when we’re all meeting strangers from the Internet, egged on by that one smug bastard you know who’s all “Yeah, I meant my wife on Match.com and we couldn’t be happier.” They say 20% of relationships start online these days. They don’t say how many of those relationships end in murder, but I bet it’s a lot.
Christina already covered some of the basic signs of serial killer-hood, like “bragging about his mad serial killing skills,” “carrying a sword,” “taking you ketchup shopping,” “laughing like a maniac when you talk about your dead parents/sister/brother/kid/friend/dog,” and “being completely insane.” Here are some of the more subtle clues:
1) He’s Got a Case of Paper Towels, a Bucket of Bleach, and a Box of Rubber Gloves in His Backseat.
Yeah, it’s possible that he owns a hotel and really needs that stuff to clean the room. It’s more likely he’s going to use it to scrub your blood off his leather seats, lady.
There’s also a shovel and a coil of rope.
|Or an axe or a hammer or anything like that. ~ Luigi Zanasi|
2) He Keeps Calling His “Mother”
Now let’s be honest, nobody calls their mother more than like, once a week, tops. Well, I’m only assuming that, because in my experience, mothers have a way of calling you.
He fills in his mother’s side of the conversation in a high falsetto voice.
|"Yes, Norman, she sounds like a very nice girl."|
3) He Emails You Even Though You Didn’t Give Him Your Email Address, or Your Name
This actually happened to me, and I may yet be serial killed for blogging about it. If I disappear or get murdered, you can find the guy’s number on the note I left on my dresser. I was going to straight-up make a bulletin board labeled “People Who May Have Murdered Me,” but I thought that might make me look paranoid to potential suitors.
|Who will then feel free to murder me, since there are already plenty of other leads.|
I didn’t meet this guy online; I met him at the bar. Which is to be expected, since we already know the bar is crawling with weirdos.
Like I said, I didn’t even give the guy my name, much less my email address, but he somehow sleuthed it out anyway. I’m not a regular at this particular bar or anything, so Creepo would have had to use some dodgy detective skills to get this information which I, let me reiterate, did not in any way freely offer to him. Then he totally starts emailing me out of nowhere, and when I write back to tell him that he’s being creepy because I didn’t even tell him my name, he got all butthurt and claimed that he “overheard [me] tell the bartender” when I cashed out my tab and that there was “no mystery” in that.
You should already be running, but definitely run faster if he invites you to drop everything and drive two and a half hours to his isolated woodland cabin for a “long weekend.”
Dude sent me this photo, to lure me out, I guess:
|He's got beer? I'm in! No, but, seriously, I'm grateful it wasn't a crotch shot.|
4) He Talks About Bladed Weapons a Lot
Now, Christina mentions “brings a sword” as something that is totally, legit weird and a sign that your date is either a serial killer, one of The Three Musketeers, Puss in Boots (d’awwwww), or a Marine in full dress uniform. Alternatively, you’re twelve years old, the sword is plastic, and it’s not really a date because your mother is there.
I think that just talking about bladed weapons a lot on a date (especially a first date) is probably a bad sign, because nobody really uses machetes or samarai swords or throwing stars or anything like that for non-nefarious purposes anymore, unless they’re like, a jungle explorer, and that really rules out samarai swords, throwing stars, and switchblade knives.
|You're not still dating that 1950's gang member, are you?|
He speaks wistfully of “that feeling you get when you smell blood,” especially if he also tries to “show you his knife."
5) You Have No Idea Where He’s Taking You
You asked him to take you home, but he’s driving off in the other direction. I hope you have a cell phone signal, or at the very least, a fork in your purse.
It’s already too late.