Saturday, December 28, 2013

The Vampire Known as Tomas Shares Some Other Strange Experiences... 12/28/13

Don't ask me who I killed. Don't ever do that. It doesn't concern you, so don't. You're here because things are 'slow' this time of year. The long, seemingly endless nights calm us down. The cold has something to do with that too. Room for everyone and time enough for everything.  No one feels constrained. So unlike the manic nights of summer. Do you know in June and July there's just eight hours of true darkness. And solitary mortals are hard to come by. They travel in packs then, screaming on street corners for the boys to come and catch them. Well sometimes they have to contend with me. And stop staring that way. You know I don't kill indiscriminately. My food deserves to be cooked. 

And then Tomas shut up, studying the hefty tumbler in his hand. He poured in the hard cider and drank it down before offering some to his guests. Students, I think they were. Film students fro Penn. He met them at a showing... some new gallery on North Second Street. They come for the cheese mostly. You know how students are. The wine too, but cheese can make a meal.

Did they know he was a vampire? No. One thought he was the eldest Jonas brother, if you want to know the truth. Creative types always seek 'contacts.' Relationship is everything in the arts. So they chatted him up and began to ask questions. But when it became obvious he had no idea who Scooter Braun was that Jonas pedigree flew out the window. And when the last of the Colby-Jack was gone they left. Ersatz Dali by way of Grant Wood wasn't cutting it. 

Tomas followed them, eager to get away from these art world 'looky-loos.' Place smelled from new, wool sweaters, probably Christmas presents and semi-controlled mice. Amateur rodent hunters can only do so much. But he fell in behind them, making his way along the rough, cracked sidewalks of Old City (an 'entry-level' smart district, north of Society Hill). After a bit they ducked into a pretentious men's clothing store. Three hundred dollar jeans and all that. Bamboo hardwood floors. Although bamboo isn't really a hardwood, but that's what they say. The skinny one tried to palm a bill fold, not from someone's pocket (they did have standards after all) a new one for sale on a polished, wood table. Six hundred and seventy dollars, in case you're interested The sturdy one kept watch. Couldn't steal like this from the big stores. Too many safeguards for that. Tiny, little cameras all over the place. Underpaid, judgmental, wage slaves. Little pin lights highlighting perfectly folded trousers. Who buys dress pants like that anymore? Where would they wear them? Well, apparently some people knew where. But that's another story. One of the owners saw the whole thing and moved in for the kill. Obviously loves moments like this. Crushing other people's lives makes up for so much. And the kid never saw it coming. 

Excuse me. What the hell do you think you're doing!? - barked the shopkeeper. And the kid almost died. The place wasn't that crowded, but a couple people did turn around. Before things could escalate, Tomas stepped up, plutonium card, or whatever they call it, in hand, flashed in before the partner and said - No, no, no, he's just passing it over to me. I want to buy it. Christmas present for myself actually.... Just like that. A switch was thrown and the owner beamed. Five minutes later the sale was made and the three of them were out on the street. Skinny kid sniffs and goes - Yo, thanks, dude. Why'd you do it?..... Sturdy kid goes - Yeah, why'd you do it?.... Tomas says - I did it 'cause I hate that guy.... Sturdy kid goes - You spent about seven hundred and thirty f*ckin' dollars, including tax, in that guy's God damned store because you hate him? Yo, dude, what do you do?..... Tomas thought for a moment, considered lying. When pressed, he usually says - I'm an investor... But these were college kids. Nothing shocks them. So he did it. He told them. He goes - I'm in vampirism. Self-employed. How do you do.... They trade names and shake hands. Sturdy kid (the talker) goes - Vampirism? What, there's a lot a money in that?..... And Tomas goes - Oh, if you only knew. Care for a drink?... But before they could even answer he hailed a cab and fifteen heartbeats later they were on their way.

He tells 'em a real good story about an old torture involving ferrets, or polecats or something and guys wearing white silk, pajama-like suits with tight necks, wrists and ankles. No underwear, or any protective garment next to the skin. Ain't allowed to do that. And it's gotta be white, 'cause white shows the blood. Stuff a couple a them hungry, sharp-toothed weasel things down the front a the pants. Button everything up real snug and tight and let her rip. First one to scream gets baked alive. And everybody watches, as they tremble, sweat and bleed.

Sturdy kid says - Did you just hear about that, or actually see it?..... Tomas goes - Saw it. Made a lot of money on it too..... How? - said the skinny kid.... Sturdy one goes - Jesus Christ! They bet! They bet on it. Can't you figure it out?!...... Tomas goes - Hey, I ain't proud.

And then he tells them more.....

Now Edith put a couple drops of Tomas' blood in their drinks. She's got a little dropper from some old bottle of over-the-counter earache medicine. That's what she uses. It works. Who needs 'fancy?'

But that I'll tell you tomorrow night...


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