Huh. Let me just summarize this: a 64 year old man, currently spending life in prison for one murder, having admitted in the past to killing several western tourists, is engaged to be married to his lawyer’s 20 year old translator who he met 2 and a half months ago.
I see. An admitted murderer has seemingly very little difficulty in procuring his next vict… um… spouse, but I can’t get a guy to carry on a conversation with me?
Well, I suppose dragging out the relationship for 10 years before committing would seem a bit ridiculous since he could technically be in prison the rest of his life. I mean, what else does he have to do, really? “No, honey, we shouldn’t get serious, I have prison laundry to do” just sounds like a dodge. And since she’s obviously not put off by trifling details like the killing of people, she’s likely to be very flexible when he isn’t able to spend as much time with her as she would like.
It’s not that I’m bitter; I’m just curious what technique he uses. I’m confounded by the idea that an imprisoned serial killer has a more active social life than I do. Sure, he gets out more, clearly, but other than that, what am I doing wrong?
I guess I’ve been relying on things like the concepts of smiling and witty repartee should anyone ever show enough interest that those tools become necessary. Perhaps I should just let myself go, let the white hair come in, and start carrying around copies of “UnSub’s Weekly” to appear more attractive. Perhaps striking up some prison correspondence might do the trick?
Then again, my spirits should be bolstered – this truly proves the supposition that there really is someone for out there for everyone.
Kate
1 comment on “Well, That’s Love For You”