A/N:  It has recently come to my attention that being interested in osteology is ‘creepy,’ so label me what you will.

For a few years now, there have been both figurative and literal skeletons in my closet.  And my dresser.  And my nightstand.

However, a particular story comes to mind.

My mom and I were in a coffee shop – I was fourteen at the time – and I actually looked halfway decent for once in my leather jacket and Screamin’ Skeleton earrings.  I was on my tablet, scrolling through a website that had all kinds of human skulls for sale (legally, I’m sure).  It was just me and my mom and the lady behind us who was not-so-subtly looking over my shoulder.

Lady:  Oh my.

I turned around.

Me:  Huh?

Lady:  *backing up*  Oh, well, it’s just that you look so… professional with your little tablet and your… uh… purse.

(The ‘purse’ in question was actually a black shoulder bag that had chains and a skull surrounded by flowers on the front.  It was very chic.)

Me:  Thank you!

Lady:  You’re welcome…

Of course, sleeping dogs never stay asleep for very long.  I continued to scroll down the page, and the lady grew brave enough to come closer.

I looked up and smiled, showing just a hint of teeth.

Lady:  Oh, I was just trying to see what exactly it was you were looking at there.

I not-so-subtly tilted the tablet away.

Me:  Oh?

Now, in a perfect world, I would have been able to tell her (in detail) about how the first skull I had fallen for – I called him Yorick – had been sold two months before, and how I was destined to roam the website in search of another soulmate.  It was heartbreaking.  I’m sure if she’d heard the whole thing, she would have cried – for one reason or another.

But this is an imperfect world, and they called her name, and she grabbed the drink and left before I had the chance to finish talking to her.  At the time, it seemed a little strange that her name was Kevin; but I’m sure her parents had a reasonable explanation for it.  Just like I’m sure there was a reasonable explanation for the guy across the room suddenly standing up and yelling “STOP THIEF.”

Oh well.  It wasn’t any of my business anyway.

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