Dinner with a Cannibal

I never thought I would have dinner with a cannibal. I suppose that life could have taken me down a different path that involved a trip to a South American rain forest to study the Yanomamo tribe, but it was unlikely. So I figured the closest I would come to cannibalism would be to see Hannibal Lecter relishing some one’s liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. Then I met Buzz.

You never want to ask too many questions around here. Minding your own business is the key to survival. The less you know, the less you can be held responsible for. Plus, hey, there’s just some things you don’t WANT to know.

When I first got here, some of the guys introduced me to an older fella named Buzz. He was in his 70s, and seemed to have all those qualities that usually come with age: wisdom, patience, and perspective. He really couldn’t have been a nicer guy. We would sit and play cards, he would eat dinner with us, and I’d stop by his cell every now and then just to see if he needed anything. I genuinely liked him.

Then one day I found out what Buzz was in for. It turns out he was picking up young prostitutes in the Pacific Northwest, and after various other atrocities, cooking them and eating them.

Now, I’m not one to overreact, but I was a little bit stunned by this news. But I wasn’t sure who I was mad at; Buzz for eating people, or the guys that introduced me to him and didn’t bother to tell me. I decided to deal with the latter first, but despite my argument that a penchant for cooking hookers was a character trait that should be included in a description of someone, the general consensus was see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

As for Buzz, well, things just weren’t the same between us. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to walk in and ask him all about it. I just plain stopped talking to him. If he wondered why, he never said anything. I’m guessing this wasn’t the first time this has happened.

Anyways, you can probably guess that moral fortitude in here is not very common. People come in all kinds of packages, and most of them aren’t easily shocked. I guess I’m a little more grounded than usual. To the other guys, Buzz was just another guy doing time.

I learned a big lesson from that whole experience, and now I’m a little more careful who I cozy up to. But you never know. Mark Twain once said, “It ain’t what we don’t know that hurts us. It’s what we know that ain’t so.” I agree.