Thursday, October 1, 2009


Recently, I found myself wasting time on one of the endless Facebook apps, "Death's Time." It "predicts" the time and cause of your death. According to this particular grim reaper, I will die on April 6, 2017 at 7:48 am, after eating poisoned food made by my best friend.

Let me fill you in on why this particularly amusing. First of all, as a kid, I was overly interested in who was making my food. At restaurants, I would always do my best to escape from the table and find my way in to the kitchen. My parents did not fully understand my obsession. The truth is I had to know who was making my food. There was some underlying distrust. How I had any notion of someone putting something bad in my food, I cannot say. I don't know.

Now, the funny thing is that years later, I was poisoned. I was 19, living with my boyfriend, who was 6 years older. I was in school and working part time. The boyfriend was a musician whose day job was working for a company that did inventory for pharmacies. So, he would snatch pills from time to time. I knew that. Let me confess- I was a complete nightmare of a girlfriend. I was 19, crazy, unfaithful, dishonest, an all around disaster of a girlfriend. He had suspected that I cheated on him, which I vehemently denied. He had gone so far as to follow me to a friend's house and watch through the living room window. The bf was really passive, so although he had followed me and was suspicious, I was the tyrant in that relationship and I think he was a little afraid of me.

So, one night I came home from school and he had dinner ready: Spaghetti. Anyways, as I was eating I noticed that it had a funny taste to it. It tasted medicine-y. I mentioned it and he passed it off as "Maybe you're coming down with something."

Sometime after dinner, I passed out and woke up to extreme nausea and dizziness. I ended up vomiting all night long. By morning I was a withered and dehydrated mess curled up on the floor. He said something along the lines of, "See, you were coming down with something."

A couple of weeks later, I came home to find he had moved all of his stuff out of the apartment. I got dumped. I was so angry, because I had been contemplating breaking up with him, and he beat me to the punch. He then moved to San Francisco. At some point in the months after we broke up we had a conversation about why we broke up. He said that he was afraid he was going to kill me. I laughed, thinking he was speaking figuratively....but no, he meant it literally. He then confessed that he had poisoned my spaghetti dinner that night I got so sick. He had stolen a bottle of phenobarbital from one of the pharmacies. He had ground up and mixed in 30!!!!! phenobarbital in my dinner. How this didn't kill me, I have no idea. After he confessed this, I never spoke to him again. No, I didn't try to go after him and press charges. I probably should have but I just never wanted to see him again. Also, it was now months after the fact. I really had no proof.

I have wondered from time to time what became of him. I have wondered if he has tried to poison anyone else. I never heard anything more from him or about him.....until recently- out of the blue, I looked up his name to see if he was on Facebook or Myspace- and I found him. That fucker is still living in San Francisco, still making ambient electronic music and- lies about his age by a good 8 years! Such a d-bag.

I have also often wondered, did he get his idea to poison me from this movie?


Mugsy and Jugsy said...

Oh, I remember this so well! Thank God his plan did not work -- it's a minor miracle! And, yeah, why the hell didn't we think of pressing charges?!?!

One thing's for sure... if your food ever tastes funny again, I bet you'll stop eating it immediately!

erin said...

Hahahaha....yes I am much more aware these days. So, any and all current or past boyfriends- I'm on to you!