Friday the 13th: A Botox Nightmare

When a perfect fall day goes terribly wrong

Andy Spears


Photo by Diana Polekhina on Unsplash

The alert on Emily’s phone brought everything into focus.

Her bank was letting her know a charge had been approved.

From the MedSpa.

For services rendered on Friday. The 13th.

Last week.

Something wasn’t right about that day. Or, well, a lot of somethings weren’t right about that day.

And she’d not heard from Alex since he left her house later that evening. Well, there was that text. Canceling their planned Tuesday meeting. And he was responding to her by text.

But they weren’t talking. They weren’t together in the same place. He wasn’t asking her to go out or accepting her invitations to come over for drinks.

It was just after 3:00 PM on a Friday afternoon in November. The day had been bright and sunny, but a preview of the crisp night ahead could already be felt.

Emily sat in the passenger seat of Alex’s car. In the parking lot of the MedSpa.

Earbuds in, eyes closed, seat reclined.

The door slammed, the car started, and they were out of the parking lot.



Andy Spears

Writer and policy advocate living in Nashville, TN —Public Policy Ph.D. — writes on education policy, consumer affairs, and more . . .