Hiking With My Demons

She may walk with the angels, but by the Gods I've also seen her run with her demons.
                                                                                  --my children talking to their father about me.


Admittedly there's something particularly twisted about the fact that my mind immediately goes to dark and creepy places with the most mundane things people say and do.  I was recently hiking, although some would call it a serious power walk trying to keep up with me; (I am however not a runner! Screw that business.) in a local heavily wooded park and sometimes recreational area.   A seldom seen worker came traipsing through in a section that allows for work vehicles to check on things and do mild maintenance and then stopped at a wooden storage unit.  He had a large tarp and a shovel in hand, this of course had me arching an eyebrow and thinking the worst of him.  Was he actually a park worker?  Did his boss know he was out here in the middle of nowhere possibly up to no good!  I observed him for a moment.  Much like one does with Rorschach cards.  I however didn't see ink blots, or bat and birds.  My immediate and twisted thought was, "well that's a truly crappy place to store a dead body." Yes, I am keenly aware that I should probably not be left alone too often or to my own devices.  As has been noted by many, near an far that should I be the voice of reason; shit has gone horribly wrong. 

Now I know the running joke after the testing, which I did for shits and giggles that yes I do carry the warrior gene.  Let everyone be rest assured that I am not a serial killer, at least not yet thanks to my self imposed hiatus from facebook.  My girlfriend whom is well accustomed to my dark and humorous (to me) thoughts, decided to play devils advocate, humouring my tisted train of thought and argued that it would be a good place to hide a body but that it was unfair of us to think that the seldom seen worker was hiding bodies there.  After all he was probably a very nice man wom had a family and went to church every sunday.  As I quirked an eyebrow in her direction and simply muttered BTK, she had to shake her head at me and just laugh at my complete mistrust of human goodness.  So there we sat over coffee discussing, she the merits and I the problematic theory of hiding a body in those woods and in that shed.  Of course upon further inspection of details she realized that I was correct, and that the concept of storing a dead body in the wooden storage unit is flawed and would surely place whomever the killer was in jail in a reasonably short time. 

The larger issue for her was of course was what was worse-the initial thought or the fact that I had taken the time to analyze it.  I maintained that my thought process was sound and would make me a fantastic crime scene investigator,  She for possibly the hundredth time chuckled and added that I would probably make a better hitwoman.  Something about my general dislike of anyone feeling as though they had great authority over my person and that I rarely played well with others.  Which she denotes is due to my being raised by wolves and keeping the company of wolves for far too long.  She might have a point, but my reasoning is still sound.  Thank the gods she gets me.  Anyone else would have run screaming by now.