Wednesday morning arrived, a rare sunny day in the cool of late October. Scott was glad that the rains had relented at least for one day. He thought that since it was reasonably dry it might be a good day to find a new car. Scott announced his intentions to Irene, who was secretly relieved that her beloved Prius was once again available to her on a more consistent basis. She didn't actually say it out loud, only that she was happy that Scott was finally going to find a suitable replacement for his much-lamented Mustang. She told him not to get anything too racy since she didn't want him getting into any more accidents.
"But, Mom," Scott said, "it wasn't my fault. The other guy hit me!"
"And you're sure it wasn't your fault, Scotty?"
"I never had an accident before. What are you implying, anyway?"
"I think racy cars attract accidents!"
"What? Mom, seriously? Do you have any statistics to back that up?"
"Oh, I'm sure I could find some!"
The discussion about auto shopping did not prevent her from asking the inevitable questions about his mysteriously late medical appointment from the previous evening.
"My goodness, you were late! What kind of things did they check for? Did they find anything?"
"They found nothing, really," Scott replied. He was still shaken from his latest brush with death but was hopeful that this Jeremiah guy would help him find decent legal representation. Scott of course didn't want her to know anything about that and was even tempted to use his vampiric power of suggestion to stop her from pursuing her line of interrogation. But Scott just couldn't do that to her.
Irene drove Scott to the dealership. The drive wasn't long, but it felt like it was, with Scott fearing that she would continue with the questions. To his relief, she didn't. She was distracted when Scott asked her about the latest coupon book that had just showed up in their mail, and if anything got Irene Campbell going, it was coupons. She dropped Scott off at the dealership and offered to stay and help him look for a new car. He replied that he didn't help her look for purses and ladies' clothing, so she did not need to do the same. She was insulted, of course, but she got the message. Scott made a mental note that he'd need to make up for that later.
Scott headed toward a line of brand-new Mustangs. With Father's offer of the use of his line of credit, he was intent on a brand-new GT model. A chubby, jovial salesman in a long-outdated polyester suit bounded out of the main showroom and headed straight for him. Scott couldn't help compare the salesman to a vampire. He smells blood, so he closes in for the kill.
"Hi there, stranger!" the salesman said. "You looking for a brand-new Ford Mustang, are you?"
"Yes, I am looking at Mustangs." Scott wondered, Gee, what could have given that away? Was it the fact that I was looking at Mustangs?
"Well! You came to the right place! By the way, my name is Scott. Scott Wainright! And you are?"
"My name is Scott, too," he replied, hoping the polyester-suited man would not make a big deal out of the coincidence.
"Well! Another Scott! I'm gonna have to work out a real special deal for you today. Tell you what: I'll knock off five percent right off the MSRP, just for a fellow Scott. I'll even throw in the factory clear coat for no extra charge!"
"That's...that's real kind of you." Scott was completely unimpressed. He tried to remember some of the advice his father had given him some years ago. These guys will try to woo you into buying something right away, usually with some bullshit about knocking a pittance off the MSRP or some other bullshit like throwing in factory clear coat. Hell, that's done at the factory! Do these guys think you're stupid?
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Suburban Vampire: A Tale of the Human Condition -- With VampiresParanormal
Office worker and ordinary guy Scott Campbell is probably the last person you'd suspect of being a vampire. His new supernatural enemies may underestimate him, but this suburban vampire is much stronger than anyone thinks. The trouble begins when an...