Once, a thousand years ago, when I had neither children nor commitments, I had an admirer. And she was a freaking psycho! Not in a "call the cops cuz I'm scared" sort of way, but in a "Jesus shitting Christ she's put $1 of gas in her car 6 times today waiting for me to come on shift" sort of way. And I affectionately named her Psychodyke. Which was cool back then because they didn't completely revoke my gay card until I married Tom, and gay people can say dyke.
I found her again. On facebook. And to prove that I am never too old to make completely predictable mistakes I will always regret, I clicked the "send a friend request" button. Because before she became a psychopath with a lot of time to waste at a gas station, she actually was my friend. And for a new kid in the 12th grade at a school 4 times the size of her old one, a friend was pretty cool. Until the KD Lang music and visible underwear part turned friendly into creepy. Then I just ran! Update undoubtedly to come!