Doing dishes while on the phone with a friend this afternoon, something suddenly triggered a vague memory.
"I think I had a premonition in a dream last night and wrote something down so I wouldn't forget," I said. I recalled waking from a dream in which I had the key to solving some mystery, and had groggily written it down in the dark before falling back asleep.
I went to my dayplanner and flipped through the pages, before finding it. "Aha!" I told my friend, "Here it is." Scrawled in blind, almost illegible chicken-scratch were the following words:
Me on bus—-> Killer nextto me. Jessica Sklar!!!! DON'T FORGET!!!
"Oh, it's such a juicy mystery!" I said. "Who is Jessica Sklar?" I vaguely remembered that in my dream I had learned on a bus ride that the man next to me was involved in the murder of someone named Jessica Sklar. I had woken briefly with the total conviction that this mystery person, 'Jessica Sklar', was some runaway teen, and I had newly discovered psychic abilities to crack the case, and was well on my way to working for the FBI, or at least
Montel Williams.
"Let's Google the name," my friend said.
"Yes!" I said, as my friend began tapping away at her computer keyboard on the other end of the line, "I wonder who she is. Gee, wouldn't that be weird if it was some unsolved disappearance of a teenaged girl?"
"Mmmhmm," she said, "Or, like, say, Jerry Seinfeld's wife?"
"What?"
"Jessica Sklar is Jerry Seinfeld's
wife."
"What?!"
"Jessica Sklar is Jerry Seinfeld's
wife."
"What the hell is
that? She's not a missing teen?"
"No."
"...Well, how weird would it be if she went missing?"
"You are the worst psychic ever."
