i know where you live

this date i had,

once upon a time,

with a girl i met on

psycohpath.com,

asked me

to help her dispose

of her

ex-boyfriend

who betrayed

her with

a stipper at the Golden
Goose

saloon.

we were eating grilled

cheese

sandwiches

at the local diner,

drinking cokes out

of a straw,

and dipping French fries

into puddles of ketchup.

what?

i asked her.

you want me to do what?

it was our first date,

but it held promise

because our profiles matched up

98 percent.

dispose of him? i said.

you know, she said,

making a slicing

motion

across her neck with

her butter knife.

ummm, i said,

choking on a French fry.

i waved down the waitress

and called

for the check.

your leaving, the girl said.

yes.

and please don't follow

me.

no worries, she said, but

i know where you live.

ever heard of google?