Thoughts, Philosophy, Life and Love

Tag: Humor

My son, the lady’s man

So as my son grows, I am noticing several new things about him each passing day.  Most of these are the usual things you notice about a child.  Picking up new habits, showing interest in things and wanting to know what they are.  Seeing his reflection in a mirror and knowing that he is looking at himself.

Then there are the things that one does not expect from a 15 month old.  Like the fact that he seems to be turning into quite the lady’s man.   Or at least he is developing a strong interest in the women he sees.   Maybe a little too strong an interest.

You  see, this all started several months ago when I went to a friend’s house for his son’s birthday party.  Naty, Gideon and Myself were invited to the party and so, well,  we went.  The host of this party has, in addition to the son whose party we were attending, has a daughter and at this party she was wearing a bathing suit.

I was not aware of the suit until Gideon, my THEN six-month-old son, about broke his neck to watch something going on behind me.  So I turned around so that he could get a better look at whatever it was that he saw.   And what he saw was Dave’s daughter in her bathing suit, and he proceeded to watch her until she was gone, and even then you could tell he wanted to follow her.

Fast forward several months to two weeks ago.  We were taking Gideon on a little early evening walk around the Marketplace, a small outdoor mall near where we live, because Gids LOVES the fountain there.  As we were walking around the fountain for about the thirtieth time, three girls, maybe in their late teens, if that, walking into the area where the fountain was.

Gideon, seeing them, broke his orbit around the fountain and headed right for them.  He then plowed right into the middle of their little group and announced himself and looked at them all.   It was like he was saying; “Hello ladies, here I am!”

The girls were all taken by his cuteness and talked to him and played to his inflated ego, and this is when he did the next thing that startled me.  He walked up behind one of the girls and put his hand on her butt.  If she noticed, she did not let it on… after all, he is just a baby, right?

He spent a couple minutes yammering at them and squealing here and there, with an occasional laugh thrown in for good measure.  Then when it came time for them to leave, he walked up to one of the other girls, who was wearing a rather short pair of shorts, and proceeded to pat her bottom as well.

I cannot help but wonder where he get this Casanova streak.  People have said, when I tell this this story, that he is growing up to be like his daddy.  Not quite… my talents when it comes to the ladies have always been in need.   When I was dating I was about as suave as an epileptic orangutan with hiccups.

So the consensus in our house is this. If Gids keeps up this streak, by the time he is in High School, we are going to have build some database to keep track of his girlfriends, because he is probably going to have plenty of them.  He appears to be well on his way to becoming a little Casanova Heart-breaker.

Of cars and people…

The is a book out there called “Pale Blue Dot”, by Carl Sagan.  I do like this book, but mostly for the science in it.  I try to ignore the political and eco-political parts.

But in the book, he makes and observation that has always stuck with me, especially when I am on the freeway or highway, driving to some place that might happen to be important to me, or to my wife that we be there.

He makes the arguement that if an intellegent alien race should find us and observe us, especially the northern American continent.  Should they decide they wish to meet the dominant species on this blue-green planet, they would more than likely introduce themselves to a car.

He says that from afar, they would watch as cars zip to and fro, and everywhere they go, these parasites climb into them and they take off again, seemingly to try and get rid of these parasite.  Finally stopping as the infestation leaves, only to come back again.

OK… so such an alien race would have to be pretty thick to think such a thing if they had spent any decent amount of time watching us.  But the thought does make one stop and think about it for a moment.

Look at how many cars we, especially Americans, own.  Even many people that are not financially well off have at the very least one, and sometimes two cars.

Look at how cars have not only become an integral part of our lives, but also of our culture and our history.

There are movies about cars; cars that kill, cars that win races, cars in cartoons that talk, they appear in commercials telling us what gas to buy and what tires we should get for them.

One day, as the Bible is manipulated over time and through the natural flow of events, there may be an entry in there about a car.  It will read that Noah was in a Peterbuilt towing three trailers of animals while being chased by a Texas Highway patrol and his inbred son. (My apologies to Burt Reynolds and the rest of the Bandit team.)

In fact… as Americans, especially on the west coast where mass transit means waiting 45 minutes for a bus that takes an hour and a half to get across town… at least where I live… people almost cannot live without a car.  I am a good example of how having a car makes you lazy.

Driving, it takes me five minutes to get to work.  Five minutes.  If I were to walk, at a casual pace, I could make the trip in thirty minutes.  Why do I drive?  I have two healthy legs, I even have a 10-speed bicycle.  But I drive… because… I am lazy.  As are many of us.

We want to listen to our talk radio or music in the morning, we need to stop and get our coffee, bagel, McMuffin, etc… so we drive.

I am not scoffing those of us who do it, it is just who we are.

One day, evolution, yes… I said evolution… will adjust, and some poor baby will be born with little vistigial wheels on his or her feet, and the world will rejoice.

Something funny happened on the way to work…

So… it sounded like a good way to start a piece that I guess I will call my “Jerry Seinfield” piece.  It is a piece about, really, nothing.  I am sort of without much to comment on at the moment except political fecal matter, and I am really tired of that right at the moment.  I mean, I do have lots to say, but I think that I need to take a break from that for a bit.  Both for your sake and for mine.

How far do you have to go to get to work each day?  It does not matter if you walk, drive, bike, skip or do cartwheels.  Do you have to go a few miles or a few hundred? Or are you one of those lucky fools that works from home?

I am a little bit lucky.  I work about five minutes, driving, from home… yet I still find a way to be a couple minutes late for work at least once a week.  I blame this on bad time management on my part, nothing else.

Several years ago I was offered the oportunity to work from my home.  One of my bosses at the time, a guy named Chuck McVay, asked if I would like to work out of my home.  Thankfully I was smart enough to say no… my reasons were completely honest… I do not have the discipline to do so without being distracted by all the other things going on in my home.  I have my Blog, the TV, three dogs, two cats, a huge DVD collection, large CD collection, XBox…  anyway, I am sure you see the problem here.  At least I am big enough to admit I have a problem with it and not try then get screwed.

But the trip to work is not that bad.  I have several fast food locations to choose from along the way, a Starbucks, a gas station.  Speaking of Starbucks, if you have not already tried their breakfast sandwiches, do so.  They are actually pretty good eats.  Let’s hope that they keep them, since they are having some issues right now and might decide to take that off their menu.

Another thing that stands out to me while driving to work is the other people that I see along the way.  I mean, it is not a long trip, so there is no time to develop that interesting “I need to go faster than you” relationship that we all seem to have with the others that we meet while driving.  But there are some interesting things to be seen.  People putting on make-up, guys shaving, people eating, and the always present people talking on the phone.  That is always fun to watch, as it is just another example of what a joke the VC32123 and 32124 laws were.

The people I get the biggest kick out of watching drive are the ones with the unruly children.  These are the people that you usually can make out from about ten cars back.  The one that is weaving all over the road and the driver is half in the back seat trying to beat the kid with their cell phone or an empty Starbucks cup, having already spilled the contents on the passenger seat or in their lap.  These have to be the most entertaining of them all.  There is nothing that gets you laughing more than seeing a person losing a fight to a child by acting almost the same age as the child they are trying to get to.

If you have not noticed by now, and if you are a regular reader of mine (don’t worry, I do not think there is such a thing.) I tend to try and see the humor of the little funny things that happen through my life.  You never know when you will not have it to laugh at any more, so laugh while you can.

At times like this, I am reminded of a quote from “Buckaroo Banzai: Across the eighth dimension” (one of the greatest movies ever made!!!)

Lord John Worfin:  “Laugh while you can, Monkey-Boy.”

Observations: In line at the Grocery Store

Have you ever really paid attention to the things people buy, and in what combination, when you are at a grocery store?

My first realization that this could have any entertainment value was several years ago when I suddenly realized that I was in line with a bag of water balloons, strawberry jello, whip cream and panty hose.  Wait… it gets worse… I was sixteen and when I got to the counter, the clerk made the comment, “Fun time planned for tonight?”  I laughed, having pretty much no clue what the meaning of his comment was until I got home that night and explained to my mother what was said.

OK… everything except the pantyhose were for my little brother’s birthday… the panty hose were because my mom tore the only pair that she had left and needed me to get her another pair for work.  I was the one that had to go to the store for her and buy them.  Not something that is fun for a teenager that is already having problems getting in with the girls at school.

Since that time, the process of watching what other purchase has been a hobby of mine.  Not something that I dedicate a lot of time to, but I do make it a point to pay attention to others in line when I am at the checkout counter.

There are varying classes of these buying mistakes that people make.  I am sure that 90% of them are purely coincidentally, but I am sure that there are those last 10% that are as the result of some sinister plan.  Some act of creative fetishism that springs beyond the scope of the normal.

I will cover some of the things that I recall seeing here.  I will also try to give one or two possible reasons for the purchases to be made in that combination.

  • The Nervous Vegan -   I recall a time when I was in line behind a woman who had a shopping cart full of fruits and vegetables.  She also had some other minor kitchen items as well, but towards the end of her unloading her cart and the only reason that I even took note of her in the first place was the event that raised my eyebrows.  She lifted a bag of cucumbers out of the cart and placed in on the belt.  A moment or two later, she placed a tube of KY Jelly on the belt and immediately covered it with a magazine.

OK… So maybe that one was a little too obvious.  Who knows, maybe there was a logical reason for the two items that had nothing to do with what I, and maybe you, were thinking.  Maybe she was going to make cucumber salad that night and also had plans with her beau.

  • The Heavy Metal romantic -  Sometimes what I see is a little less clandestine.  The person buying the items is pretty much telling the world what he or she has planned right of the mark.  Like the person I saw in a Super WalMart in Gilroy, once.  When I got to the counter, there was a gentlemen who was, based on the clothes and the piercings, obviously a little bit into the punk/rock/etc scene.  His selection for that days purchase was a pair of silk boxers, an AC/DC DC, bottle of cheap wine and a box of condoms.  There is little doubt was this guy had in mind.  Let’s just be glad he was playing safely.

I tend to find the most amusing things I see like this are in the mega stores.  The places like the Super WalMarts, Heartland Target Stores and the like.  You have so much selection in these places that it is just a matter of time before you see something that makes you laugh or just really wonder.

  • The Would Be Babysitter – Of the ones I have seen, this is my favorite, unfortunately while I can recall most of what this person bought, I cannot recall what store it was at.  The person in front of me had what looked like all the makings for a fun day at a children’s day care.  Lots of coloring books and crayolas.  A few toys and some balls.  Even a couple “whiffle balls and bats” so that we could tell that there was a “Whiffle Ball” game in the near future for someone.  Then, when I saw toward the bottom of the flatbed he was pushing, I noticed about 100 feet of nylon rope and at least two sets of the electronic dog collars.  You know, the ones that shock the dog if it gets too far from the house or to stop them from barking.  If you were to ask me… they are perfect items for a Daycare.
  • The Evil Bartender – Saw this in a Von’s grocery store a couple if years ago shortly before New Years Day.  A young lady had a cart full of liquor and mixers for what looked like it was going to be a great party.  Rum, Vodka, Tequila, then there was the fruits and other items.  At the end, when the cart was almost empty, she placed two bottles of Drano on the belt, some cat food and a bottle of bleach.   I am not sure that this is a party I would want to attend after all.
  • Dangerous Lonely Housewife – Again, at a Von’s.  Lady in front of me buys a Ladies Home Journal, Us, People and another rag, then puts a bottle of Vodka, lemons and beer on the belt.  Why is it that I had mental pictures of this lady sitting on toilet, doing shots and reading her magazines, all while crying about something that happened to her.
  • From the “Honorable Mention in Love” category – Saw a guy once with a frozen pizza, six pack of beer and a “I’m Sorry” card.
  • From the “How not to say I Love You” Category – Again in the grocery store… guy buys a butcher knife, box of plastic garbage bags and a dozen roses.  I read the news papers for about a week after that one, looking for something that might have fit the image I had in my head.

These are just a few items.  I am sure that, when you think about it, you will see these.  If you never did before, hopefully this article will fire up that funny little section of your brain that will now start making these associations when you see the person in front of you in line at the store.  Now you might take note and realize that there might be something more to THAT story!

If you happen to run into a situation like this or something that you would like to share, please do so.

It’s the end of the world…

If you read this Blog enough, you know that I am not a big fan of most things TV related.  I will watch Discovery, History, Sci Fi (More on this later) and some of the other channels out there that I list as the few salvations to the art.

This being said, sometimes there is a show on Network TV that I do like.  Amonst these I will list CSI:Las Vegas, My Own Worst Enemy and the occasional episode of Cheaters (Yes… my one indulgence into depravity.)

There is another show that I try not to watch, only because I do not want to break my quota of Network exposure and that is the program called Criminal Minds.  It is actually a well written show and the cast is strong, but I hate the idea that I might get locked down to another program that will keep me stuck in front of a known radiation hazard occupying my living room.  I will fail to mention that I have a larger one in my office that I use to play XBOX 360, but I do so enjoy hypocrisy.

My title of this particular post is not to say that the world is ending because it is getting harder for me to not have an excuse to vacate the living room when this show comes on.  You can only use the “I have to go to the bathroom” excuse so many times in a given hour before your wife makes an appointment with an urologist for you.

No… it is because tonight I saw something that has shaken my world to the core.  Something that, when I saw it, I needed to use the good old rewind feature on my DVR to make sure that I saw it.  The character name “Hotch” SMILED.  Yes… I know.  Upon seeing this, I immediately checked to see if my Lotto tickets were winners… then I realized it was Monday night… and I then realized that I do not play the Lotto.  So I checked to make sure that there were no obvious signs of the apocalypse.

On the few… rare occasions that I have seen this actor in other shows… namely that atrocity of a program that my wife watched religiously called Dharma and Greg, I have never seen the man smile.  He has always appeared to be a walking, talking Prozac commercial… for when it does not work.  Then this.

There are few things in life that leave me thinking… “OK… I thought I saw everything!”  But this was one of those times.

With all the strange and new things happening this fall… the only thing that could top it off and send me over the edge is to find out Barak Obama is actually George Bush’s long lost brother from a pairing of George H.W. Bush and Grace Jones.

OK… That was all I had to say this evening… so I am out of here.

The Typecasting of Men…

In the event that I have been asleep for some length of time and just not noticed… in some comatose state that has kept me from noticing this pre-Huxlian world we seem to be moving towards in which men are subservient and docile, I need to ask an important question.  At least it seems important to me at the moment that I am writing this.

Why are men cast, in much of the media today, as idiots, morons or just plain stupid?  I will be the first to point out that there are many out there that are, and the rest of us just have our moments from time to time.  But then again, name ANY woman that can not also fit into that description.

The point that I REALLY started noticing these things was when Carl’s Jr. started on what I can only call their “Moron Men” commercials.  You have seen them… they are the ones that usually portray the man standing in the meat section with that “deer-in-the-headlights” look, staring at the meat like someone saved up a week and took a dump in the refrigerated section.  The latest one in this assault on intelligence is the one with the “Pretty-boy” standing in the kitchen trying to make guacamole by putting a whole avocado in the blender and setting in on the lowest setting possible.  The resulting effect is a guy standing there with a dumb look on his face while the avocado bounces around inside the blender… then closes with him trying to bite into the avocado.  Unless he is a refugee from the short bus, and I think even they are smarter than that, no one would try and eat an avocado like that.

OK…  To be fair, this is not the first time that I commercial campaign has gone after people by exploiting the intelligence factor.  Mostly, in the past, it was aimed towards women, and I did not care for it then either.  Granted… now and again… it is funny.  The current trend is at the point where the joke is getting old already.

Unfortunately it does not stop with just the commercials, it has also spread to other media as well.  It seems like comic strips, TV shows and other media, even Radio commercials, have gotten on the bashing bandwagon.

OK… The ranting aside, some of them were kinda funny… the first few times.  But come on people.  Find something new to beat on.

I do understand, though… seriously.  We live in an age where the only people that you really CAN pick on, without fear of a law suit or an attack from some special interest group, is the white male between the ages of 15 and 65.   If you go after a man or woman of any non-white race, then you are being racist.  If you pick on women, then Gloria and the NOW gang of feminazis come out of the woodwork to take you to task.  If you pick on the Homeless, then Jimmy Carter puts on his cape and flies in with his Nobel Prize of power to lay you to rest.  If you pick on the handicapped… well…  I am not sure who their spokes person is, but they will come out and attack.  Somehow, I think it would be neat to see Stephen Hawking fly in with a cape and protect them all… but that is a story for another time.

If you are sitting there, thinking that I am writing this out of hate… I am not.  I understand very well how the marketing system works.  I know that commercials are geared towards certain niche crowds that the writers know will probably bring in the most traffic, and that these commercials cater to the people that live in that region that they are shown.  I have to think that Carl’s Jr. probably used the Paris Hilton commercial out here in California, but in Pennsylvania they probably had a gal dressed in full smock and hair in a bun, “getting dirty” washing the family horse and buggy with the tag line… “You English will certainly like our fresh Amish beef steaks.”   This probably would not work in someplace like Utah…  in some cases one family would fill an entire Carl’s Jr… and that is just with the wives.

Of Wives and Dogs…

Let me first start off by saying that this article was my wife’s idea, because of a moment of levity while we were out “Yard Sailing” today (though by the time this is posted, it will have been a couple weeks ago.)

The topic came up about how our dog, Eliza, is always happy to see us, especially me. It seems that no matter what, Eliza is always happy to see me.

I will occasionally see other people with dogs, and I have a tendency to walk over and talk to them. It is almost as though there is an unwritten rule that says that most people with dogs should be friends. It is as though both the dogs and their people understand this.

So I will go home, and the first thing that Eliza will do is check me out… and she will cover every inch of my hands, shirt, pants and shoes to see who this strange dog that I was messing around with was. After she is done with the investigation, then the scolding begins. This usually lasts about five to ten minutes of her barking and not letting me near her. Then, as though nothing ever happened, she comes over and gives me a profuse amount of “dog kisses”, which in “Eliza Parlance” means that you will have your nostrils thoroughly bathed and the tip of your nose will get nipped a couple times.

This started me to thinking, aloud and in front of the wife; “Wouldn’t that be the dream of all guys if women were like that?”

“Like what” Was her reply.

Knowing that I had just stepped in “IT”, I had no choice but to continue the line of thought.

“What if women were just as quick to forgive and forget as Eliza is?” I said… getting ready to dive behind the car for cover. Not knowing any better, I continued… “You know, a guy could go fool around and have fun, come home smelling like strange women, and the wife or girlfriend scold him for a while, then forgets about it and cuddles… no beg deal.”

Obviously this was all said in jest, and she knew that. With the exception of one moment of stupidity many many years ago that was just south of a nightmare, I have been the picture of faith to my wife. So she knew that I was throwing ideas out for the sake of conversation.

That is where this post comes in. Her response to the entire dialogue was: “Tell you what. You post that on your Blog and see what kind of response you get from people.”

I must have LOOKED like I had some doubts, and she saw that, so she said, “You will post it, right?”

For anyone out there that is or has been married, you learn that there is a secret tone that all women have learned. It is taught to them by their mothers and It is similar to the way Obi Won told the stormtroopers that the droids were not the ones that they were looking for. It is that voice that they use when they want a glass of water from the kitchen and are only sitting ten feet from it, yet they call you from the other side of the house, while you are in the middle of something.

Alright, so I exaggerate a little.

So… In closing, my loyal readers… all five of you. Please do not give me too much grief over this post.

Have we nothing better to worry about?

This question comes as I stumbled upon the following video:

Have we really gotten to a point where someone like this is not allowed to get up, and speak his mind, whether it be in ernst or jest, without being taken to task by the media as being a racist or hate monger?

His message was stated with a sense of jest and humor. There was nothing negative about it. It was a speech that, if given twenty or thirty years ago, would have had no negative feedback for anyone involved. But we have become so worried about what others think, and not wanting to offend anyone about anything, that we feel obligated to place him on some shelf as a bad guy.

What makes this worse is how the media, in their usual idiotic way, only shows enough of the clips from the actual speech, to make it appear that he was being hurtful to others. As I have said before, the media is nothing more than a vulture culture that lives to feast off only the refuse of what should be real news. What they did to Brandon is a prime example of that. While it is of poor quality, I have included a video of that as well.

There is nothing wrong with making fun of the things that divide us. There is nothing wrong with demonstrating that you have a sense of humor. Personally I think that is something that all too many of us are missing these days, and the world would be so much better if we did not hide our jest from one
another, and Brandon Rosario was demonstrating just that.

Looking at this from another point of view, we are sending a message that expressing yourself openly and honestly is not something that we want our youth to do. We are teaching them that you have to censor everything you say and do to not offend anyone. Doing this is almost impossible without making your speeches so open ended and bland, that they lose any real substance.

Back to Brandon, though. I hope that he stays who he is and does not change because a few people might have been offended but some of what he said. We really have to learn to laugh at ourselves and others. I honestly believe that the only thing that is going to save our world is if we all learn to have a sense of humor again and start using it.

There is nothing more cleansing to the soul than a really good, gut wrenching, laugh. Preferably one that brings you to tears.

Brandon Rosario… keep up the good work.

Credits for the attached videos go to “Moohu” on you tube, for the news clip, and the coverage of the actual speech by Brandon Rosario.

A day in the life of Steve, the dysfunctional vampire.

An odd thought came over me today. Not that today is any different than other days, I tend to have odd thoughts most days, just this one seemed odd enough to warrant getting a spot on my blog.

We all hear and see the stories of vampires on TV, in books and on the big screen. They are always portrayed as mysterious and mildly erotic is some cases. What if that was not the case? What if you were to find that becoming a vampire brought with it most of the same problems and issues that you had before you became one of the undead?

Imagine Steve, newly appointed member of the undead… An Anemic, Diabetic and Asthmatic Vampire who also suffers Tourette’s and has a spastic colon. Let’s look at his day to day plight just to make it in this world.

First off, Steve is already disappointed. He had thought that becoming one of the undead would cure him of all his former problems, but alas, it has not. Granted, he does heal much fast than he used to, he is no longer allergic to the twenty-four hour deodorant that he likes, and he never really enjoyed the sunlight, so these were plus’. But the many other health issues that Steve has been plagued with since childhood are still in the way of his successful adventures in vampirism.

First and foremost is his Tourette’s Syndrome, something that gave him many a year of remorse throughout school and work. Since he was bitten and turned into a vampire, his medicine no longer works, and since part of being a successful vampire requires stealth and a hypnotic control over your victim, he was at a loss at to how to achieve this. Nothing is quite as embarrassing as sneaking up on your prey, while asleep, and right before you bite, you release an involuntary string of obscenities into their ear. This has killed the moment for him on many occasions, and he has since resorted to either throwing a heavy object at them from across the room in an attempt to knock them out or using a tazer, which made life for him that much easier.

Still there was the problem of him trying to stay in the shadows and out of site. One of the gifts of his new life was his ability to blend in with his surroundings, however that was offset, again, by the tourette’s. The only amusement that he gained from this was the occasional fight that he would cause when no one could figure out where the verbal assault came from and they would go after the person standing nearest to them.

Another problem with the new life style was his protein rich, liquid diet. He was never what he thought of as squeamish, but the idea of blood as his primary source of food did not really sink in until after the deed was done and he had become a vampire. Unfortunately the conversion process did not come with a manual, and the person that assisted him in this transition was not forthcoming with answers and help in making the move from living to undead. Having suffered IBS and a spastic colon most of his life, the transition to this new diet was not going well for him. In fact he had some of the worst cases of gas, cramps and diarrhea that he had ever experienced in his life. There were even a couple times that he just could not control it and that led to many a close call. Since then, he had learned to start taking massive amounts of fiber and other various supplements, but still never quite getting it under control. The only result of his attempts was gas and cramping and as you might imagine, a flatulent vampire is hard to take seriously in anyone’s book.

Next was the issue of his diabetes… he still had to check his glucose on a regular schedule, but there were times that he would spike and feel sick. He discovered that if he made sure that he traveled at least two miles to each victim, then he could offset the affects of the spikes in his blood sugar, and control it. He also found that if he was lucky enough to find another diabetic, then he could control him levels that way as well. The fall back to the later was that now the city he was living in was in search for what they were calling the “Diabetic Killer.” Though through reading, it appeared they were blaming it on some conspiracy with terrorists and the manufacturer of one of the many testing meters out there, that were going after all their clients. That was fine with Steve… it was easier to buy that than the possibility of a flatulent, diabetic vampire on the loose.

Another plus he had noticed that his asthma had cleared up a little, though he still avoided anything that would require running or jumping. He was glad that vampires could not fly, as depicted in the movies, or he would probably be in a lot more trouble with the asthma. He also noticed that his acne had gotten a little better, though he was still prone to the occasional zit, and he no longer had any complications due to his anemia. So there were some good things that he could see.

Steve attempted to maintain a professional career after his transition, but found that it was just too difficult to do. While he was always a night person, even before he was a vampire, but would still do most of his shopping during the day, especially when he needed staples for the house. Now he was bound to only going out after dark, or dusk at the earliest. While some grocery stores were open, most other places were not, at least not late. Most jobs that Steve was trained in, were not the kind that would allow him to work late nights without occasionally coming into an office during the day, so at first he tried the occasional fastfood jobs, then he worked for bit in a gas station, but then he also found that this cut into his feeding time. Vampirism was not turning out to be the romantic and adventurous life that Steve had expected. Finally, he found a overseas company that would let him work their hours, and being so far removed from them, he could squirrel away a long lunch to go find some poor victim to feed on.

The final thing that bugged him was his newly found, even more abundant lack of anything resembling a social life. It was clear that the raging vampire social scene that the movies had portrayed, just did not exist. There was no club that he went to, there was no dating group, and when he rarely did run into another vampire, it had all the pleasure that a deer must feel in those final moments before it become permanently implanted in the grill of a speeding Peterbuilt hauling twenty tons of fertilizer and the driver having just finished his fifth beer. Even his girlfriend stopped calling him and, in fact, had a Protective Order sworn against him when, in the heat of the moment, he bit off three of her fingers. They were able to reattach them with little problems, but it was decided, both by them and the judge, that they should see other people.

So… here sits Steve… A Vampire… pretty much in the same boat that he was in before he was a vampire. Nope… it was not what he expected, and now the best he could do is wait for the chance encounter with some Van Helsing wannabe to assist him in not being an undead. Until then, he would continue to be Steve… the dysfunctional vampire.

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