How Not to Vampire - Season 1

4. Jaime's Infinite Playlist

Tips for Humans #373: Don't be the crazy one.

I waited until I was on the bus before I put in my headphones and opened iTunes, telling myself that this morning would be different goddamit; this morning I would be not a borderline stalker, and maybe the one thing I was looking forward to and dreading at the same time, wasn't even there anyway, but like all of the other times over the past four weeks, I was wrong.

Of course, it was there on the screen, the title saying everything that it needed to get my complete interest. Taunting me.

Jaime's Infinite Playlist.

My hands shook from the rush of adrenaline as I greedily scrolled through the list of songs that my ex-girlfriend had recently listened to on her own phone. By some fluke of technology, it showed up on my iTunes. It was just like an addict getting his fix, now that I think of it. I paused, savouring the moment, that heady rush of anticipation ready to rush over me and fill me with unimaginable bliss. I would have drunk from that anticipation if I could, taken it and injected it into my veins and let myself drown any guilt that might have wanted to come out and play.

I knew it was bad, but goddamn it was so, so good.

I hit PLAY.

Seriously, what did you expect from the guy who snorts heroin? Some kind of restraint?

Radiohead filled my ears, assuring me that everything was in its right place, right place, and I leaned my head against the glass, trying to lose myself for a while. For a moment it became the soundtrack for my life, perfectly in time with the hypnotic rock and sway of the bus as it carried us denizens of the graveyard shift into the waiting dawn. The lumbering vehicle rumbled smoothly from stop to start, the thrum of the engine vibrating through my entire being. My body moved in time with the sway as the bus navigated the bumps and potholes and demonstrated how few fucks it gave, because it was the goddamn morning bus and nothing got in its way.

I usually traveled in silent solidarity with the few passengers, enjoying one of the side-benefits of working the graveyard shift: watching the city awaken. All along the route, lights were switched on, others switched off as people left their houses. There was a general sense of the city itself stretching and yawning, preparing for the business of the day. It was strangely comforting knowing that my day had ended and now it was someone else's turn. Most mornings I would lean my head against the window, music in my ears, witness to the secret life of a city half-awake.

The unseasoned passenger would have been lulled into sleep, the kind of sleep that had made lesser men miss their stops on countless occasions, but I was the mutha-fuckin' master of the graveyard shift, and besides, I had Jaime on my mind.

Like any reasonable person, you're probably looking at me in absolute horror and a mixture of disgust usually reserved for politicians and pineapple on pizza, but in my defence, you would have done it too, and pineapple is awesome on pizza, so bring it!

"What's on the playlist this morning?" a woman's voice pierced through my chill vibe, right in my ear.

I'll be honest: I almost jumped out of my skin. I was yanked out of the semi-hypnotic state I had fallen into, slight panic and guilt flooding me as I turned from staring out the window to find the face of Crazy Mary inches from my own.

"Hello, Crazy Mary," I said, pulling out one earbud as I shifted in my seat. I tried to appear as nonplussed as possible. She had scared the shit out of me, but I was still enjoying a mellow high from the weed I had smoked earlier with Sammy, so 'nonplussed' was pretty easy for me to pull off.