I can think of six ways to kill a man. two of them require a knife.


This came up on New Year’s Eve, while I was in the back seat of Tom and Julie’s car. Here’s what happened. Tom and Julie are super awesome, wonderful people. They were driving me from the Rio to the Silverton in Las Vegas after a night of New Year’s celebration. Now, those of you who know me are probably thinking that Vegas isn’t really my cup of tea. And really, it’s not, however, I believe in having fun wherever you are, so I did what I always do when I’m somewhere that’s not really my cup of tea. I had “Leila fun”. Which in this case involved meeting lots of strangers and getting to know them.

First, there was Suzy,* from just outside Philadelphia. She was at the craps table. Her mom had a stroke while she was in Vegas with her husband and three kids (all teenagers). She was friendly and tried explaining craps to me, but I didn’t understand. Nonetheless, I really enjoyed our conversation and hope her mom gets better.

Second, there was Jack*, he’s Philipino and lives near L.A., I introduced him to my brother-in-law, who’s also Philipino. He seemed to do well at the table, I watched his chip pile grow and grow.

Third, there was Mandy,* she from Bulgaria. She is happy to be in Vegas, because in Bulgaria (she says bool-gaar-ee-a), only very young girls can be cocktail waitresses and she’s in her thirties, (although, I must say, she was smokin’ hot!). Her husband is Lebanese, and so she said “shukran” (which means “thank you,”) when I complimented her.

Fourth, was Bubba (This is really his name, or so he told me. Can’t change it, it’s too funny!). Bubba is an older man. Older than me. Maybe in his sixties, I’m guessing? Anyway, Bubba was at the bar sitting in front of a video poker machine. Somehow, Bubba and I started talking about STRING THEORY! Can you believe it? New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas, sitting with an old guy named Bubba, talking about STRING THEORY. He was a scientist, and so I asked him about gravity. You know, does he buy the idea that gravity is so much weaker than the other forces because it’s not tied down? Anyway, never mind, just take my word for it, it was an AWESOME conversation!

Finally, I met, gee whiz, some guy whose name I can’t even remember so I can change it to protect his identity. Oh well, we’ll just call him Bob. So the long and the short of it is that Bob was trying to hit on me. Clearly, I wasn’t interested, since I don’t even remember his name. But when our little party broke up, I was going to catch a cab to my hotel and Bob said, “I need to catch a cab, too.” Which prompted Tom and Julie to give me a ride.

BECAUSE – (this is soooo funny), they were worried about this guy basically forcing himself into my cab, and presumably my room etc., etc. BECAUSE, of “how nice you are!” said Julie. Basically, Julie was worried that I am such a sweet, trusting person, that I would end up being coerced into something I really didn’t want. O.K. So if you don’t know me at all, this doesn’t sound funny, certainly, it happens to people all the time. However, if you DO know me, then you have probably stopped reading at this point to roll around on the floor, laughing uncontrollably.

So here’s the rest of the story. I kept trying to convince Julie that I’m not actually a particularly nice person, certainly NOT a “sweet” person, and MOST CERTAINLY NOT someone who gets pushed into ANYTHING they don’t want to do (trust me). So I finally said, “I know six different ways to kill a man.” And Julie replied, “what are they?” So I told her.

  1. Heel of the palm thrust up under the nose.**
  2. Hand to chin, hand to base of skull, pull.**
  3. Carotid.**
  4. Jugular.** (you can pinch the carotid, but the jugular requires a knife).
  5. Trachea.**
  6. Femoral artery.** (also requires a knife).

Of course, there are many other way, those are just particularly accessible.

*name changed to protect the innocent.

**don’t try this at home.

 

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About Leila

I am a wife and mother. I am an Orthodox Christian. I am a Syrian American with family living in Syria. I am a also a yoga teacher and freelance writer. I recently described myself in a job pitch as "a person who's lived in Portland, Oregon for over 20 years with a passion for writing and a passion for all things Portland. I'm a foodie, knitter, wine and beer lover, bee-keeper (yep, I said it), mead and fruit-liqueur maker, organic gardener, home-canner, hiker, biker, runner, and occasional skinny-dipper. I’ve camped all over the state, I sail a sailboat that’s moored on the Columbia (o.k., I'm the first mate), and I spend a large percentage of my time at our beach house in Seaside." That about sums it up.
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