The time I met a Serial Killer.

I have just returned from dropping the 8-year-old at school where I spent some time having a gas bag with some of the mums at the school gate.  As we don’t know anyone in Toronto and I’m not getting my usual daily level of OOF (outside our family) interaction I find myself chewing the ear of any person who says hello to me.  Today’s victim will be the cleaner who is due any minute.

Talking to the mum’s this morning I kind of felt like I was dating.  Getting to know people with small talk, seeing if you click with someone and then I guess taking it to the next level if you do and perhaps going for a coffee or making a play date.

It all reminds me of the time I met The Canadian and our don’t throw up love story!

It was back in the early years of the new millennium and I was on a 4-week road trip in the USA with a friend who we shall call Julie because her name is indeed Julie.

We pulled into the town of Santa Cruz in California and running out of clean clothes decided it should be a maintenance day.  The first step was hunting down a motel.  If doing this trip, today we would whip out our mobile phone, check the hotels online before arriving at the town, compare the prices and pictures and book and pay at the click of a few buttons.   As this was back in the olden days (2003)  it involved finding the area that had the motels (our budget back then did not extend to hotels) pull up out the front, one of us would then run in and check the price, come out and give a run down of what was included and then drive off and check out the competition only to always go back to the first one anyway.

Mostly we stayed at such fine establishments such Motel 6’s or Super 8’s.   We told ourselves that the motel 6’s had 6 luxury items in the rooms and Super 8’s would have 8, on our list these would include things like a TV, Kettle, Telephone, Tissue Box etc, sometimes we would struggle to find the 6 let alone 8 features so some stays would include the bed, sheets a pillow.

Anyway back to my story on how I met The Canadian, we had found a Motel that wreaked of curry and had the thickest shag pile crime scene red carpet I have seen in my life.  We had done a couple of loads at the fluff and fold, and had a quick look around Santa Cruz when we decided we needed a day off from site seeing and would find a bar to sit in for the afternoon.

We walked into a bar mid-afternoon on a weekday and it was empty, found a booth and ordered drinks.  A lone drinker was sitting at the bar and kept turning around and looking at us.   We had decided he was a serial killer and was a bit creepy.  After several more drinks, we made our exit for the bar next door.  The afternoon turned into evening and the bars filled up.  We kept running into the serial killer in the bars around town.  Then it happened!  I was at the bar ordering drinks and started talking to the serial killer.  We made eyes, cupids arrow struck and I knew that he was going to be the man I would marry. ***I will just wait here for you to come back after throwing up***

It turns out that the serial killer was actually living in Wisconsin and was in Santa Cruz for work, he had finished work but couldn’t get a flight out until the next day so had gone to a bar to watch Ice Hockey.  We hit it off and because it was the olden days we swapped business cards.   He went back to Wisconsin and I continued on to San Francisco with my friend.

Upon my return to Australia we started emailing each other and after a few months started making plans to see each other again in person.  A little obstacle like each of us living on the other side of the world wasn’t going to get in our way so we decided to meet up again halfway and arranged to meet up in Hawaii.   The reality of what I had done started to sink in on the flight to Honolulu and I spent most of the flight in the toilet.  What was I doing?  I don’t know this person!  We have met in person once and I’m flying half way across the world for a holiday with someone that could be a serial killer!!!

Well, I’m so glad I took myself out of my comfort zone because all these years later The Serial Killer is my husband, The Canadian and together we made The 8 Year old.

Just like back then I have taken the leap out of my comfort zone to a new city and again I will need to go on “dates” as I seek out a new circle of friends.  Hopefully, I don’t collect any Serial Killers along the way.

Does anyone have any tips on moving to a new city and meeting people?





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