I first met Phone Assasin at The Halftime Rec, a smoke-infested hole-in-the-wall bar that features live Irish music and Hammerschlagen upstairs–a game where the first person to pound a nail into a tree stump wins–and Bocce ball downstairs.
It was a happy hour sponsored by Minnesotans for a Democratic Majority–a young Democrat organization.
At that time, Phone Assasin was a roommate of a friend, Mr. Democracy. I was fascinated to discover that night that she worked as a tobbaco cop, busting retailers for selling cigarettes to minors. What a job!, I though–kinda undercover, kinda cop.
Phone Assasin is about the most competitive person I know–and I know a lot of competitive people–so it’s a good thing she subsequently married The Veteran, who will keep her competitive fires burning.
Phone Assasin earned her moniker by dunking my cell phone in a glass of beer.