So I Might Be a Vampire - Book 1 (Original Version)

67: Among the Mortals

Everybody thinks they know what rock bottom feels like. We all have an idea in our heads of what absolute rock fucking bottom is supposed to be and we spend most of our lives simultaneously running away and congratulating ourselves that we've avoided this horrible, horrible fate. Said horrible fate usually takes the form of that homeless person you just passed and deliberately didn't make eye contact with and the realization that at some point any empathy you'd had for them was just too inconvenient to deal with anymore. You think that's the rock bottom you want to avoid and even as you pat yourself on the back for going back and putting that five dollar bill into the homeless person's dirty and battered cup, (making sure not to touch the sides of course), you're one hundred percent confident that you will never be like that guy. That is not what rock bottom looks like for you, right?

Apparently, my rock bottom consisted of sitting on a northbound bus and trying not to make eye contact with the slightly little less than creepy woman sitting across from me. I was sure she was checking out my phone to see if it was worth stealing but it was kind of hard to see where she was looking through the black sunglasses she wore at night without the slightest bit of irony. I could have her that it was just a late model iPhone 4 and was hardly worth the trouble, for either of us.

"No, you can't have the night off." The Boss wasn't happy to hear me at all, especially after what I had asked him. "I don't care if your grandmother died: she'll still be dead tomorrow!"

"You're an asshole."

The Boss had already hung up on me, but I said it anyway just to get it off my chest and wishing I had called from a phone booth just so I could have something to slam down. Cellphones have killed all sense of drama. Even if you throw the phone across the room, more likely than not you'd still almost deliberately throw it someplace relatively safe, after all, anger is momentary but a broken screen on a $700 phone is still expensive. Yes, I know it's a mixed metaphor: deal with it. In any case, I was on the bus and it was all hard surfaces, so there was not going to be any phone throwing going on, only impotent rage.

Slightly-less-than-creepy lady was still clocking me, and she might have gone chasing after the phone anyway. I almost chucked the phone right at her face just on principle.

Rage. Rage was good. It was at least an emotion I could understand, actually admit to, and was a lot better than the numbness that had taken over since I had left the club. I guess I could only call it a complete lack of purpose, or even more truthfully, the harsh reality of utter and complete rejection—

My phone buzzed in my hand and for a second I just stared at it, wondering when I had turned it to vibrate. It was Sammy calling. I flipped the little switch back on and answered the phone.

"What?"

"Boss called me laughing at you. Tonight's your night off, dumbass," Sammy said. I could hear her crunching on what was most likely to be an apple from the way she was chewing. "Go get drunk or something."

I stared at the phone after Sammy had hung up, really not knowing how to feel now that I didn't have the distraction of trying to avoid going to work looming over me.

"Fuck!"

Slightly-more-creepy lady was definitely looking at me now. She leaned closer elbows on her knees and made a "come closer" gesture with her fingers. I glared at her as hard as I could and shook my head. There was no way I was getting any closer to her.

"Have you heard the good news?" She asked me, and grinned the lunatic grin of the marginally insane. "He is risen!"

"And this is where I get off," I said as the bus lurched to a stop. I grabbed the pole and pulled myself upright and towards the door in one smooth motion, my primary goal to get away from crazy as fast as possible.

***

I exited the bus, and just started walking. I didn't look back to see if definitely-creepy-lady was standing in the bus yelling after me, or if she had settled back into her craziness. It wasn't in my face, so it wasn't my business and immediately became somebody else's problem. The only thing I was thinking of at that moment was finding the closest bar.

Guess what the bar was called. Go on: I'll give you one guess.

It was with no small sense of irony that I entered the bar that called itself "the Rock Bottom". I could go on at great length about how it was a sign, that the Universe was either trying to tell me something or just fucking with me, but I won't. No, that's what they call hindsight and like Dave Mustaine says, it's always 20/20. What I probably did was chuckle and roll my eyes, too pissed off to be impressed by the Universe showing off how clever it was.

I scanned the bar quickly, determining that it was as shitty a dive bar as I had hoped for and that it wasn't just a hipster dive bar. So far the signs were good. There were tattoos, but no stupid anchor tattoos to be seen, just a motley collection of bad art and badass ink. Guns N' Roses was blasting from the weathered jukebox in the corner, Axl Rose screaming to the world that You Could Be Mine and he was right goddammit, and you bet your ass that Motley Crue or Metallica would be playing next. The people were the convincing part of the equation for me though. The sheer authentic age and wear and tear of the bar itself and the random but thick collection of genuinely aged band flyers that plastered the walls and for some reason the ceiling, told a story that no hipster could fake.

It was almost like coming home.

******** AUTHOR'S NOTE **********

The book is now AVAILABLE in Hardcover, Paperback and Ebooks. It's going to live here free on Wattpad, but if you love the story and want to support your awesome author (me), grab a copy from one of the lovely retailers below. Who knows: maybe it can become a bestseller with the help of you lovely WattPadders

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