What brought this topic to recent light has to do with an early Christmas gift I decided to give myself, rather than any hint of criminality on my part. Please allow me to explain:
First off, as a fiction writer—one whose mind is continuously hatching plot-twists and fanciful characters—my concentration levels tend to briefly wander at times. It doesn’t mean I’m spaced-out, but only that my mind sometimes loses track of mundane things like checking accounts, stop lights, and grocery lists. This results in fleeting episodes of unfocused thought. Consider Einstein, as an example, forgetting to zip his fly while quantum equations pirouette in his head. When this happens, the results can at times be embarrassing; most often they are merely amusing.
Using this “mind drift” as my defense, here’s how things went south when I ordered my aforementioned holiday gifts. While at the same time setting off alarms in the dark corridors of some cavernous NSA data-harvesting lab.
The set-up goes like this: Over the past two summers I’ve discovered that a troop of small rodents has taken up residence in my backyard bushes. They are field mice or voles, something of the sort, and seem to thrive on fresh grass. Finally I’d had enough of their destructive presence. I searched YouTube for tricks on how to get rid of them. My search lead to a product called Havoc, a “rodenticide” claiming to “Get rid of rats and mice.” The main ingredient is something called brodifacoum, which is essentially a sophisticated version of potassium cyanide.
Excellent. I typed in my desire for the 8 lb. tub of the stuff. Should do the trick, I snickered.
The problem is, I never finalized the shipment. Instead the order sat in my Amazon shopping cart for three months. Now speed forward to the last week of November. Halloween has come and gone, but I remembered receiving a Goodreads e-mail list called The Ten Most Frightening Ghost Stories of 2014. I decided to treat myself to an early holiday gift, and picked out six novels that I hoped would cause my bones to shiver at night. Then I logged into Amazon and ordered the books, not paying the slightest attention to the older items still sitting in my shopping cart.
I was pondering my order two days later, when it dawned on me. I looked up my order and sure enough…they had shipped my new scary novels, along with the other items in my cart. I tried to imagine who the Amazon order-takers really are. I assume they’re everyday people, folks with at least a bit of a sense of humor. And people being people, I imagined how much delight they might experience (boredom relief?) when comparing notes on the most ridiculous orders they receive. I pictured the order-taker on my account calling out to her co-workers, “Hey, get a load of this sicko. He just ordered eight pounds of cyanide and a half-dozen crime-horror books.”
I pictured the co-workers gathering around her screen, perhaps even bringing up my writer’s website out of curiosity. More laughter. My website (if one bothers to check) says I specialize in “suspense and terror, frightening scenes of murders and kidnappings,” et cetera. Having a photo of a graveyard as my site heading likely doesn’t help matters. Especially with this gaggle of Amazon employees staring at my order of cyanide (an 8 lb. tub, no less), and a half-dozen gruesome horror novels.
Yikes.
All right. So here’s my note in advance, offering a preemptory mea culpa: “Dear FBI. I’m not planning any crimes or dastardly doing with the rat poison. Please excuse me from any and all accidents or transgressions in my neighborhood. Especially those involving small pets. I wasn’t considering the ramifications when I placed my order. Sincerely, Jeffrey Dahmer.”
OK. Forget the last part. Just kidding, Mr./Ms. FBI agent. Just an attempt at a little dark holiday humor. Ha, ha. Anyway, Happy New Year. And to all my friends and readers: Please come and visit me at Leavenworth Penitentiary.
