Tuesday, April 26, 2011


Papa found a few things in the shops. The owners and sales people were all over him. He just had the 'look.' I don't know whether it stemmed from his human nature or his vampire nature, but it was there. They'd measure his inseam even if he was just looking at the socks. And this is sixty year old women, I'm talking about. Storekeepers would pat his shoulders and tell him how nice the jacket looked. They'd lightly run their fingers across his ass and say - These 'slacks' fit perfectly on you..... He never carried any bags or packages. Everything was sent right up to the house.  Picked up a little girl's patent leather, spring pocketbook for Annie too. Sure, she's disgusting, but every once in a while he feels sorry for her. So what if she fills it up with crunchy, dead cockroaches? That's her business.

When he was done in the stores, he stepped out onto the aged brick sidewalk and began to stroll. Ah, the warm, night air felt so good.  People gave him looks. He was used to that. Somebody'd mumble - Don't that guy look like Richard Gere?...Teen and twenty somethings smiled nervously, then giggled and flew away. But he had no time for such nonsense. Our 'Papa' had jucier morsels to fry.

He pushed open the plain, green door and went inside. The light was dim. Festive neon brewery signs decorated the wall behind the bar. And he found an empty table (a tiny two-seater) half way down the room. So he settled in and considered all the choices. Loud college types commandeered the bar. I don't know if they actually were in college, or if they'd recently graduated. But you get the picture. A few 'older' couples from the neighborhood occupied other tables along the wall. The waittress came over. He knew her and she knew him. . They tossed around a little playful banter and a minute or two later, she plopped a nice platter of 'crab' fries and a frosty mug of cold beer down in front of him. Was he contemplating a dietary change? I don't think so. But bait is bait and cushy young school girls with moist, dewy cheeks just love those hot, spicy 'crab' fries.

Sure enough, one such specimen struggled to find some tummy room at the bar. She turned, staring into the middle distance with an exasperated look on her face. Then, as if cued by some director, she blew a wisp of hair off her cheek (yes, it was dewy). Their eyes met and that was it. Papa motioned for her to join him. and she eaggerly slid her denim-clad tushy down onto the vacant seat. He started in with some by-the-book, unoriginal tavern-talk. Papa said - Boy, these crowds can be bruttal.....Miss Sweetie-Pie said - Yeah, tell me about it.....Then he offered her a few fries (she ate the whole plate). I guess 'crab' fries make humans thirsty, 'cause she downed that frosty brewski real fast too. I think she finished off another one after that. So it was only natural when they stepped outside for some fresh air.

Fifteen minutes later, she found herself lying eighty-five percent naked on the manicured greenery
of some out of the way, shadowy pocket park, with little memory of how the whole thing happened. So she picked up her clothes (he'd carefully placed them on a bench), put them on and went back to join her companions. And those two itchy welts on her neck? Probably a spider in the grass... A really big spider.

So, Papa didn't mind putting up with Luna and Annie and all the rest of the drama back at the house, for he'd already had his fun. True, it was only a taste. But when the fare is rich (as is the case with truffles and fine pate), a taste is quite enough.....

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