What a Way to Go

A few days ago, I was sitting in a Friendly's restaurant in upstate New York. In the booth next to me was a 30ish white guy with what I would usually describe as a hipster beard, but given where the Friendly's was located and the fact that he was wearing a ball cap with rifles screen printed onto it... maybe not a hipster.

Anyway, he was talking to two people across the table from him, and I wasn't listening to them, I really wasn't. But suddenly one phrase sprang out and lodged in my ear:

"She hates me. Some day she's going to kill me with a pasta salad."