Friends of ours live in a fairly rural area near Annapolis. And it is lovely - they have a beautiful home on the water, own kayaks and a power boat, and when we visit, it feels like we're staying at a luxury resort.
One of the friends loves to walk, and there are many miles of private road near their house where she can do this. In fact, she was taking advantage of a secluded saunter one recent morning when an unmarked white van passed her, slowed down, turned around, and pulled up right beside her.
(This is where I would totally pull a "Blazing Saddles" and sprint away from what is surely the neighborhood serial killer.)
But she is made from hardier stuff than I, and simply stood there patiently while the gentleman rolled down his window and introduced himself as a member of a local walking club. He invited her to join their group and handed her a business card with the organization's information and his email address.
An Erol's email address.
He is definitely the neighborhood serial killer,
Brutalism
