The Ax-Murderer Cometh

It's mid-November 2012. I'm having dinner with my wife and then 16-year-old daughter. We're almost done eating. "Don't chain the door when you go to bed," I tell the two of them.

My evening constitutional consists of a walk to downtown Royal Oak and back. That's how I've maintained my girlish figure over the years. I just wanted to let them know I wouldn't be back within my usual 40-minute allotment.

"Are you meeting someone?" my wife asks.

"Yes," I tell her. "I'm meeting a Facebook friend from Georgia at Tom's Oyster Bar. A fellow libertarian, he has written articles for Lew Rockwell. He's in town on business."

"Have you ever met him before?"

"No."

"You're meeting a complete stranger at a bar in downtown Royal Oak?"

"You got a problem with that?"

"Are you crazy?! He could be an ax murderer!"