This tale of woe began four years ago and spans a decent amount of time. For your sake and mine I will try to truncate this tale the best I can, leaving all the tangential matter to your imaginations.

So, it begins…

Sometime in 2005, I joined MySpace. I set up my profile page, complete with a few pictures taken of myself by myself (standard protocol for bachelors who live alone), and wrote what I considered a very witty “About Me” section (it wasn’t). I added a few friends, most of whom were coworkers of mine at the bookstore where I worked, and sent out a few comments. One friend I added was a coworker named Carla.

Carla was what most people would call a “Goth.” Dark-eyes, long dyed-black hair, black skirt and stockings, and lily-white skin (lily-white: a cliche to be sure, but she was, alas, a lover of lilies). Unlike most Gothic types, however, she had a good sense of humor and seemed only moderately inclined to brooding. She had a boyfriend named Roscoe (of course, I’m not using real names here, but his real name is equally ridiculous–apologies to any Roscoe’s out there), and he was a makeup artist in the movie industry. They had been dating for some time, about two years if I recall correctly, and Roscoe was a member of MySpace too.

Keep in mind that this was back when most MySpace profiles were kept on the “public” setting. In other words, everyone looked at everyone else’s profile whether they were your “friend” or not.

So, Carla and I started exchanging harmless comments to one another. But apparently Roscoe didn’t find them all that harmless.

Continued in Part II

Related posts:

1. Epic Woe – Part III
2. Epic Woe – Part II
3. Epic Woe – Part IV
4. Epic Woe – Part V
5. Epic Woe – Part VI