If I were a serial killer I’d murder people in the drive through at In and Out Burger.
It’d be so easy. No one would be able to drive away, and no one would want to get out and help because they’d be on their phones. They’re always on the phone, especially in the infinite line at 10:30 pm at an In and Out Burger.
I’d go up to the driver side windows and tap the glass with a knife. It’d be a long knife, one of those scary ones you’ve always assumed hillbillies would kill you with if they only got the chance.
It would have been my dad’s knife. He’d have shown he how to skin a deer, but he never would have imagined the uses I’d put it to.
I’d tap the glass, and they’d glance over at me. Their fear would be delicious, like a double double animal style hold the lettuce.
People tapping on your window isn’t that weird in LA, but it is weird when they do it with a knife.
I’d be wearing a black hoodie and have a big, bushy beard.
It’d be dirty.
It’d have burger bits in it.
I’d grin and my gold tooth would show and then I’d duck down under the car. It’d make things scarier.They’d try to find me but they never would. They’d be too distracted by the Facebook or the Twitter. By the little lights blinking on their phone’s screen.
I’d get them in the end. If I were a serial killer, I always would.
If I were a serial killer.
I’m not, though. Most people aren’t.
You read about stuff. You see a headline, you see a Facebook status, you see a flag as someone’s profile picture, you catch a little phrase on the Facebook trending bar, and you get scared.
They mostly put scary stuff on that trending bar. They mostly put scary stuff in headlines.
They don’t do it for any insidious reason.
It’s just that bad news sells.
Bad news sells, and everyone knows things are getting worse.
There was a time in the Roman Empire when people realized things were as good as they were ever going to get.
“This is it,” people would say to each other, “it ain’t going to get any better.”
“Yep,” the would agree, “I’m afraid this is it.”
“Things are only getting worse,” they’d say.
“Worse and worse.”
Can you imagine what the Facebook trading bar was like back then?
Full of bad news, or bad news that was on its way, or bad news that could happen.
Full of scary headlines.
You see stuff like that and you get scared.
You get scared and you go to In and Out Burger at close to midnight and you think about how easy it would be fore some psycho to kill everyone in line and no one would be able to get away or notice everyone else was dead until it was too late.
But most people are good people. They aren’t serial killers.
But it’d be easy to imagine they weren’t good people.
You don’t have to though.
It’d be so easy.
But you don’t have to.