“I’m not sure I’m a vampire anymore,” Martin said as he stared at his half emptied mug of hot chocolate.
Adriana took a few sips of her black coffee while she pondered what Martin had said. Sitting at a table in Maria’s cafe, morning customers buzzed all around them, ordering caffeinated products and breakfast sandwiches to go. No one paid them any attention, which is just as well when you’re discussing whether you’re a vampire. Finally, she spoke. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I said, I don’t think I’m a vampire anymore. I’m not sure how much of a vampire I really was anyway.”
“There aren’t degrees of vampirism, you either are one or you’re not. Besides, it’s not something you can just give up, like cigarettes or the priesthood. This is what you are now. Once you sprout fangs, that’s it, there’s no giving them back.”
“But I just don’t feel it anymore.”
“Really?” Adriana felt her ire rising. “You’ve been a vampire for all of forty-eight hours or something like that, and all of a sudden you know what being a vampire feels like? Ride it out for a few centuries of blood sucking mayhem, running from angry torch bearing villagers, go through stretches where you’re going mad with blood lust but you just can’t find the time or place to satisfy your needs, then get back to me about what a vampire is supposed to feel like.”
Martin looked at her incredulously. “First of all, if I understand correctly, you were only transformed a few years ago, so you’ve been an active blood sucker for less than one-tenth of a century. Secondly, when have you ever been chased by angry villagers?”
“Well, technically, never. There was one time when a hospital security guard with a flashlight ran after me. I was trying to steal plasma. He slipped on some ice and broke his leg or a hip or something and I got away with the plasma.” She looked wistful. “Whew, good times.” Adriana suddenly appeared thoughtful. “What makes you think you’re not a vampire anymore?”
“That whole vampire charm ‘groove thang’ thought control stuff? Well, that seems gone. Doesn’t work anymore. You saw how the ladies treated me when we were walking here. Yesterday, I thought Catherine was going to jump me, today she was indifferent, to say the least, and Amelia looked right through me, just like before. Joanie’s not interested either. In fact she seemed a little hostile when I order my hot chocolate. I think she spit in it.”
“Really?” Adriana smiled lasciviously. “She gave me a nice warm smile with my coffee.”
“Well, bully for you.”
"What does that mean, 'bully for you'? Who says stuff like that?"
"Teddy Roosevelt used to say when he was very pleased with something."
"Well, he was the last one to use that expression, and he's been dead for over a hundred years. Anyway, I have to admit, ever since I drank your blood, I haven’t quite felt myself. Maybe there’s something up with you. You know, maybe you’re like an anti-vampire or something. You could be some kind of freak of nature.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, “you drink blood, but I’m a freak of nature.”
Adriana chuckled. “Well, yours would be a unique situation. I’ve never known anyone to get transformed then be untransformed.”
“Is that a word?”
“Is now.” Adriana watched with a mix of horror and amusement as Martin ate a chocolate brownie the size of a baseball in three quick bites. “You’re like one of those snakes that swallows it prey whole. You might want to think about chewing next time.” Then an idea dawned on her. “Do you always eat like this?”
“You mean quickly?”
“No, I mean junkily.”
“Okay, that is not a real word.”
“Whatever. Here’s the thing. In the short time I’ve known you, you’re almost constantly eating something and it’s never anything good for you.”
“Said the woman who drinks human blood.”
“Can we get off that for a moment? Listen to me, you’re always eating something that’s bad for you, never anything fresh.”
“That’s not true,” he interrupted her. “The other day I had...uh, I had...anyway, go on with what you were saying.”
“You eat a lot of sweets, lots of sugar, but lots of high fructose corn syrup, too. Who knows what kind of genetically modified craziness is going on there?”
“How do you know about genetically modified food?”
“There’s more to me than amazingly good looks and an excellent fashion sense. If a girl is gonna live for a few centuries, she’s gotta take of herself. I don’t smoke, I drink in moderation, and I exercise. Feels these abs. Hard as a rock. Go on, feel them, you know you want to.”
Martin looked down shyly as he swirled the dregs of his hot chocolate around in his mug. “I don’t want to, really,” he mumbled.
“Sure you do.” Adriana grabbed his hand and placed it on her midsection. Taken aback by the firmness, he exclaimed, “Wow, I’m impressed.”
“You should be. Play your cards right and I’ll let you feel my biceps next time. Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh, yeah, your craptacular diet.”
“Hey! It’s not that bad.”
“Yes, it is. When’s the last time you had a vegetable?” Martin thought about it without answering. “Yeah, you don’t even remember. It’s all sweets and processed foods. I mean, I saw a jar of pickled kielbasa in your refrigerator? Pickled kielbasa? Really? Who knew such a thing existed?”
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he replied. “It was weird but good.”
“Whatever. The main thing is, it probably wasn’t good for you. Nothing I’ve seen you eat is. Maybe your diet is what holds the key.”
Martin held the mug upside down so the dregs of the hot chocolate dribbled slowly into his mouth. Adriana slapped him lightly on the back of his head. “Would you knock that off and pay attention to me?”
“I was paying attention. You said my diet is the key.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “The key to what?”
“The key to the fact that both of us may not be vampires anymore. Quite frankly, I haven’t had a taste for blood since I had yours, and that worries me a bit.” She put an arm around his shoulders and whispered in his ear, “My friend, I think you are the Anti-Vampire.”
Adriana took a few sips of her black coffee while she pondered what Martin had said. Sitting at a table in Maria’s cafe, morning customers buzzed all around them, ordering caffeinated products and breakfast sandwiches to go. No one paid them any attention, which is just as well when you’re discussing whether you’re a vampire. Finally, she spoke. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I said, I don’t think I’m a vampire anymore. I’m not sure how much of a vampire I really was anyway.”
“There aren’t degrees of vampirism, you either are one or you’re not. Besides, it’s not something you can just give up, like cigarettes or the priesthood. This is what you are now. Once you sprout fangs, that’s it, there’s no giving them back.”
“But I just don’t feel it anymore.”
“Really?” Adriana felt her ire rising. “You’ve been a vampire for all of forty-eight hours or something like that, and all of a sudden you know what being a vampire feels like? Ride it out for a few centuries of blood sucking mayhem, running from angry torch bearing villagers, go through stretches where you’re going mad with blood lust but you just can’t find the time or place to satisfy your needs, then get back to me about what a vampire is supposed to feel like.”
Martin looked at her incredulously. “First of all, if I understand correctly, you were only transformed a few years ago, so you’ve been an active blood sucker for less than one-tenth of a century. Secondly, when have you ever been chased by angry villagers?”
“Well, technically, never. There was one time when a hospital security guard with a flashlight ran after me. I was trying to steal plasma. He slipped on some ice and broke his leg or a hip or something and I got away with the plasma.” She looked wistful. “Whew, good times.” Adriana suddenly appeared thoughtful. “What makes you think you’re not a vampire anymore?”
“That whole vampire charm ‘groove thang’ thought control stuff? Well, that seems gone. Doesn’t work anymore. You saw how the ladies treated me when we were walking here. Yesterday, I thought Catherine was going to jump me, today she was indifferent, to say the least, and Amelia looked right through me, just like before. Joanie’s not interested either. In fact she seemed a little hostile when I order my hot chocolate. I think she spit in it.”
“Really?” Adriana smiled lasciviously. “She gave me a nice warm smile with my coffee.”
“Well, bully for you.”
"What does that mean, 'bully for you'? Who says stuff like that?"
"Teddy Roosevelt used to say when he was very pleased with something."
"Well, he was the last one to use that expression, and he's been dead for over a hundred years. Anyway, I have to admit, ever since I drank your blood, I haven’t quite felt myself. Maybe there’s something up with you. You know, maybe you’re like an anti-vampire or something. You could be some kind of freak of nature.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, “you drink blood, but I’m a freak of nature.”
Adriana chuckled. “Well, yours would be a unique situation. I’ve never known anyone to get transformed then be untransformed.”
“Is that a word?”
“Is now.” Adriana watched with a mix of horror and amusement as Martin ate a chocolate brownie the size of a baseball in three quick bites. “You’re like one of those snakes that swallows it prey whole. You might want to think about chewing next time.” Then an idea dawned on her. “Do you always eat like this?”
“You mean quickly?”
“No, I mean junkily.”
“Okay, that is not a real word.”
“Whatever. Here’s the thing. In the short time I’ve known you, you’re almost constantly eating something and it’s never anything good for you.”
“Said the woman who drinks human blood.”
“Can we get off that for a moment? Listen to me, you’re always eating something that’s bad for you, never anything fresh.”
“That’s not true,” he interrupted her. “The other day I had...uh, I had...anyway, go on with what you were saying.”
“You eat a lot of sweets, lots of sugar, but lots of high fructose corn syrup, too. Who knows what kind of genetically modified craziness is going on there?”
“How do you know about genetically modified food?”
“There’s more to me than amazingly good looks and an excellent fashion sense. If a girl is gonna live for a few centuries, she’s gotta take of herself. I don’t smoke, I drink in moderation, and I exercise. Feels these abs. Hard as a rock. Go on, feel them, you know you want to.”
Martin looked down shyly as he swirled the dregs of his hot chocolate around in his mug. “I don’t want to, really,” he mumbled.
“Sure you do.” Adriana grabbed his hand and placed it on her midsection. Taken aback by the firmness, he exclaimed, “Wow, I’m impressed.”
“You should be. Play your cards right and I’ll let you feel my biceps next time. Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh, yeah, your craptacular diet.”
“Hey! It’s not that bad.”
“Yes, it is. When’s the last time you had a vegetable?” Martin thought about it without answering. “Yeah, you don’t even remember. It’s all sweets and processed foods. I mean, I saw a jar of pickled kielbasa in your refrigerator? Pickled kielbasa? Really? Who knew such a thing existed?”
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he replied. “It was weird but good.”
“Whatever. The main thing is, it probably wasn’t good for you. Nothing I’ve seen you eat is. Maybe your diet is what holds the key.”
Martin held the mug upside down so the dregs of the hot chocolate dribbled slowly into his mouth. Adriana slapped him lightly on the back of his head. “Would you knock that off and pay attention to me?”
“I was paying attention. You said my diet is the key.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “The key to what?”
“The key to the fact that both of us may not be vampires anymore. Quite frankly, I haven’t had a taste for blood since I had yours, and that worries me a bit.” She put an arm around his shoulders and whispered in his ear, “My friend, I think you are the Anti-Vampire.”
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