Yeah, sure. So long, roomie, pal o’ mine. Have a nice flight…if you even make it on board.

I’ll admit it: I was hurt when I found the emails. My girlfriend and my roommate. The words were bad enough. I’m trying to forget about the pictures. But did I lose my head over it? Did I blow up like some kind of raving maniac and drive her further into his arms? Not me. Like lutefisk, revenge is a dish best served after moldering for weeks.

So I waited until roomie was packing to leave for Daytona – at the same time that my girlfriend suddenly had to rush off to a family funeral in… Florida. He couldn’t refuse a celebratory drink with his best pal, could he? Not on the night before his big vacation. So once he passed out, I slipped into his room and helped him pack a couple of things. A copy of The Anarchists’ Cookbook. Half a pound of primo Michoacan Verde, divided up into quarter-ounce baggies. And an SOG M46D Meridian Topo Drop Point Knife.

Just look at its gnarly snaggletoothed serrations, its pass-through lock bar, its satin-finished blade. It’s a great knife. I hated to give it to that scumbag roommate of mine. But I’m sure by now he’s enjoying it with his new Homeland Security friends.

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