Musings of a Postmodern Vampire

by P. J. Day

  “I like nice things, too. I may not be able to afford them like you can, but I do keep tabs on what is fashionably trendy. I consider myself well-rounded, you know,” she said, giving me a playful tap on the cheek.

  I turned toward the exit and gently placed my arm on her back. I pointed at the line of taxis that patiently waited for guests to be taken to their destinations of leisure. “You ready to get going?”

  Holly smiled and said, “I’ve been ready ever since I boarded the plane.”

  I opened the taxi door for her and caught a glimpse of her shoe and her ankle as she pulled her long black, skin-tight dress up ever so slightly so it didn’t get caught at the bottom of the cab’s door. Her right ankle, interestingly enough, had a small tattoo of what looked like a traditional Chinese dragon. I never thought she’d be the type to ink her body. It had me thinking about the potential surprises the rest of her dermal canvas might have in store.

  I entered the cab, smiled at Holly, and patted the cab driver on the shoulder. I gave him a preemptive tip. “We have reservations at Petrus’ at 8:30. Get us there a little faster if you can,” I said.

  “Ooh, look at me. I give pre-tips,” Holly said playfully.

  “Oh, stop it... this place is pretty upscale. They might be kind of snobby and make us lose our seat if we don’t get there on time.”

  “I’m just messing with you. So, how are things going out here for you?” she asked, while patting me on my leg. Her fingers were manicured with great care; a nice deep candy red adorned her long natural fingernails, the skin on her hands glistened with salient moisture.

  “It’s been a giant cluster—” I bit my tongue. I didn’t want to sound like a sailor so early on our date. “...to say the least. I’ll tell you over dinner why we’re all here. But Ted quit on us tonight. In fact, it all happened about an hour before we met downstairs.”

  “What? He just quit? Did he return to L.A.?” Holly asked, understandably confused.

  “No, he’s in my room. It’s complicated... I’ll tell you at dinner... promise.”

  The cab driver was hauling ass, not recklessly, but with urgency and still managing to somehow respect the traffic laws, or at least blurring them. With confidence and focus, our cab driver took alleyways so he could get us to our destination a little quicker, at the expense of our heart rates, of course. As soon as we hit a much-needed stoplight, I decided to ask Holly about her little tattoo. “I didn’t know you liked dragons.”

  “That little thing? I got it when I was in my early twenties. All my girlfriends at the time were getting words written in Chinese without researching what exactly they said.” Holly chuckled a little and continued her story. “One time, my friend Mindy decided it was a good idea to get her lower back tattooed. You know, the whole tramp stamp...”

  “Do you have one of those, too?” I asked, with sinister horn-dog curiosity.

  “No, of course not. I mean, do you think I’m that type of girl? Not to say that girls that get it are tramps... well, Jenny was kind of... you know?”

  “Sorry, go on,” I said, feeling kind of like an idiot for asking such a forward question.

  “So Jenny pointed at some Chinese characters on the wall in the parlor and asked the artist if he could ink that particular design on her lower back because she thought it looked cool. The artist, without hesitation, said, ‘Sure, okay.’ She asked him what it said as he got the needle ready. The guy told her, while squinting at the design, that it meant ‘rhythmic allure.’ Jenny said, ‘Go with it.’”

  “So, what did it really say?”

  “Gas chamber...”

  “Are you kidding me? No way; that is too perfect.”

  “I swear to God.”

  We both cackled loudly in the backseat of the cab. The story was too good to be true, even though I had heard of similar stories regarding Asian tattoos gone awry. This one seemed a little more entertaining, probably due to the way Holly told it. I was smitten with her style of storytelling and the cadence in her voice. She also had an impeccably delightful delivery.

  “Anyway, I decided to get this little dragon one,” Holly said, as she lifted her dress a little, showing me the two-inch-long Chinese black dragon with a minute, forked tongue. “I got it because it was different... exotic. It had that cool Asian feel that all my friends were going for at the time, but without committing to cryptic lettering that I might have regretted sooner or later.”

  Holly smoothed down the skirt of her dress and then looked out the car window, tapping excitedly at it; something had caught her eye. She pointed to the glass-paned building, which had a bronzed muscular sculpture of a man holding a large globe on his shoulders. “That’s one of the buildings I need to take pictures of tomorrow. The top has these glass peaks, and they asked for a three-dimensional photographic model of the top of the building.”

  “How are you going to that? I asked.

  “Helicopter, of course.”

  “Hey, we can go back and get your camera after dinner... you want to take a flight after dinner?”

  What girl wouldn’t like a helicopter flight? What could be more romantic than holding someone you really liked in your arms as you saw the skyline all lit up in all its neon splendor? What a genius idea for a date, or so I thought.

  “I don’t really want to work tonight, Jack. I was hoping to let loose a little; is that okay?”

  “No... no, that’s fine. I’m more than happy to let loose. Let’s do this!” I said with much enthusiasm, as I grabbed Holly’s hand.

  “Why are your hands always so cold?” she asked.

  I was caught off guard by the question and quickly let go. I immediately felt self-conscious and that little creeping thought—called the truth—began to overwhelm my psyche. I quickly needed to change the subject. I didn’t want my true nature dictating the temp of our date. It wasn’t the right time to let Holly know who I really was or at least let her know what I thought I was.

  “Bad circulation in the hands. I should have brought gloves. Here, hold my hand again; warm it up if you can,” I said, smiling.

  The cab stopped in front of a beautifully colored skyscraper. It was a spherical structure. Each floor seemed to wrap around the building like glowing pineapple slices, stacked up on each other. Just a few yards away, the bay shone with help from the skyscraper’s luminous glow. We got out of the cab and I paid the driver a little over the standard fare, as usual. I then put out my elbow so Holly could latch on comfortably. Without hesitation and with a soft, gentle smile, she accepted my offer. We slowly walked up the steps that led to the main entrance of the hotel where Petrus resided. Just like our first date, her heels made that same clacking noise. To the trained ear, it’s easy to determine a woman’s nature by the decibel level she creates with each step. Muffled and deliberate, she was careful in not making too much noise with her heels. She was aware of my heightened sensitivity to her presence and was cognizant of any perceived annoyances. We entered the hotel lobby and were led to an elevator—that was designated for the restaurant only—by a finely dressed gentleman. The elevator was made out of glass and fully transparent. You could see the entire bay as we ascended to the top floor.

  Holly looked into my eyes. Her emerald-like irises were hypnotic. I noticed cute little freckles on her nose, which further illuminated her youthful appearance. It was impossible to draw my eyes away from her. The way her hair was styled, the way her dress hung around her shoulders, her smell, her look; I felt so compelled to kiss her right then and there. I felt moisture building underneath and around my tongue. The dichotomous feelings that arise in situations like this were starting to overcome my entire being; they emanated from the deepest regions of my physical body. One second, I just wanted to hold her close to my chest, and caress her skin, just before placing my lips on hers. And then in an instant, there was a fulminant drive to sink my fangs deep into her neck, tasting tiny raw pieces of flesh and the exquisite life blood that made her whole entire existence possi
ble. Frankly, it made me feel ashamed to feel this way—so predatory—but there was something in me that I could not explain that just drove me into these types of situations over and over again, despite a horrible success rate, once the girl found out what my needs were.

  Ding. Just like that, the moment was shattered. The elevator stopped and we walked out. We were immediately greeted by the maître d’.

  “King at 8:30,” I said.

  The man smiled and said, “Your table is ready; right this way.”

  Restaurant Petrus had an ambiance fit for those who were monetarily inclined during the great global recession. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the crown molding looked as if came directly from a baroque-era salon. There were over a dozen windows that had dramatic views of the bay and the city. There was already a bottle of Clos des Papes white wine waiting for us at the table, which I requested upon making the reservation. As I pulled out Holly’s chair, the waiter was already popping the cork. I pushed in Holly’s chair, and as I sat, the waiter began pouring our wine into the beautiful crystal wine glasses, which complemented the effulgent dinnerware that was soon to be used in our anticipated gastronomical adventure.

  “You have seriously outdone yourself, Jack.”

  “It’s no bother, really. Why not live it up a bit? This dinner is subsidized anyway,” I said beamishly.

  “I hope this doesn’t come out the wrong way, but you don’t have to try so hard, you know? I mean, both our dates have been like the greatest dates of all time for me, personally.”

  “Good. I can’t experience daylight with you. I guess one can say that I am compensating for being a little on the strange side.”

  Holly took a swig of the wine and her eyes lit up. She gave me an inaudible “wow” and took another one. “This is so fucking good!” she said clamorously. She then covered her mouth and was noticeably embarrassed. “Did I say that out loud?”

  I grabbed her hand and smiled.

  “No one heard you... just have fun.”

  Holly whipped her blonde locks away from her shoulders and leaned in, the tips of our noses separated by a couple inches of empty space. On second thought, it wasn’t empty space; it was full of free-floating tension which was ready to throw us into some sort of fervent physical bond that would elicit the sneers of every patron and employee at this fine establishment, causing us to be thrown out like a pair of lustful teenagers. I had to relieve the pressure.

  “I don’t know if I can continue doing what I’m doing,” I said to Holly.

  Holly leaned back in her chair and gave me a concerned look. She continued to hold my hand and in a soft voice asked, “Continue doing what?”

  “Ted’s leaving and I’m going to be by myself with this job. Yeah, he was kind of an irresponsible employee, but we were a team, and he knew his stuff. I don’t know if I can continue doing this without him. Especially now that the stakes are at an all-time high.”

  “Gosh, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Holly. “What do you mean by the stakes being at an all-time high?”

  “You can’t tell a soul, okay?”

  “Of course not; I mean, who would I tell anyway?”

  I motioned the garçon to leave our table for a minute, as he stood there attentively at our service.

  “Our intellectual property, our software, everything that Schnell has created and depended upon for the Asian markets, has been compromised by the Chinese government.”

  Holly was taken aback by what I just had said. Her eyes bulged out and the romantic verve in her eyes was diminished by my revelation.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Wow, sounds like a big deal. So, what do they have you doing over here, then?”

  “They want me to gain access to their servers and fool them into installing some spy software to gain evidence of what Schnell thinks is going on. Look, I’m not going to bore you with the details. I’m just really nervous, and the last thing I want to happen is to get caught.”

  “You’re a confident guy. They’ll never suspect what you are trying to do,” Holly said, as she caressed the top of my hand.

  “See, but that is why I’m upset Ted bailed. I can’t believe this guy let me down. But I understand his position. It’s just not worth it anymore. This whole deal... I didn’t sign up for this... I just want to make a living while being behind the scenes.”

  “Let’s not talk about this anymore. It’s stressing you out. What is it that you really want to do?” Holly asked, trying to change the conversation from its serious tone.

  I gave Holly a smile and my shoulders relaxed a little. I sighed and looked directly into her eyes. “I just want to be normal... to have a normal life,” I said.

  Holly chuckled slightly and tightened her grip on my hands. “But you are normal.”

  “No, I’m not. I can’t go out during the day. I have this crazy diet that I have to follow. I work nights out of my home. There is this terrible sadness that sometimes envelops me when I’m alone, because I feel I know too much.”

  I immediately realized I was being extremely candid with her. However, there was something about her that, no matter what I said, it felt safe. Maybe it was that understanding look she always had in her beautiful, emerald-colored eyes, or the way she always pouted her lips with empathy. There was no judgment but enough sagacity within her to have a deep understanding of my predicament, without knowing my true identity.

  “You don’t have to do this all your life, Jack,” Holly said.

  “But this dinner, my lifestyle, everything that I have bought and owned, which has become my identity, for better or worse, is hard to come by when you don’t have a day job.”

  Holly didn’t understand that this job was all about my survival. Without it, I was just another vampire toiling the wilderness at the risk of turning feral or even worse, death...

  “Jack, you’re such a good-looking man. When I first saw you, I thought you were the most frighteningly striking man I’d ever laid my eyes on,” she said, with sincerity and a slight slur, probably brought on by the wine.

  I blushed and even though I agreed with her, I was still pretty embarrassed with her assessment.

  “Stop it... are you buzzed?” I paused and thought about her comment. I shouldn’t push her away, I thought. “Thank you, Holly, that’s real nice of you to say.”

  “No, seriously, you can walk into any job interview and get that job. You’re a very good-looking man and you dress amazingly on top of that,” Holly added.

  Enough of physical appearances. I wanted to ask Holly how she really felt about me: my insides, what makes me tick, who I am in her own thoughtful words.

  “Holly, what do you think of me? What do you think of my condition; does it bother you?” I asked.

  “No. So what, you can’t go out in the day. Big deal. Adjustments can be made. I’m a night owl, anyway. It’s not like you’re a vampire or anything.”

  I gave Holly a sullen look. It’s not like you’re a vampire or anything. What did those words mean? No one believed in vampires. Hell, I didn’t believe in them like how the movies, books, and urban legends portray them. We don’t fly; we don’t kill indiscriminately—anymore, at least. There really is nothing paranormal about us.

  “Do you believe in vampires?” I asked with a careful tone.

  Holly laughed a little and took another swig of the fine wine. Little droplets from her drink began to stream down the side of her mouth. She wiped them off with a napkin and proceeded to point at me, in jest.

  “Are you one of those guys who thinks he’s a vampire? Do you attend those blood-drinking parties?”

  “No, don’t be silly... of course not. However, I was reading in this book about obscure medical conditions, and there have been cases of people born with the need to consume blood in order to live.”

  Holly gave me a look of disbelief. I didn’t she think she was buying the direction I was taking the conversation. In fact, I think I was confusing her. Maybe, I shouldn’t go dow
n this road yet.

  “Pfft... that’s disgusting. Also, I love reading those medical books, too, and I have never come across a case study like the one you described,” she said.

  Why did this have to be so difficult? Human beings were so predisposed to avoid, chastise, and obviate any genetic defect that threatened the purity of consistent human formation. I was a freak and there was nothing I can do about it. How did I let Holly know more about me before I really let her know more about me? Screw this; more alcohol. That should loosen further inhibitions.

  “Enough of vampires. Garçon! Another glass for the lady.”

  The waiter poured Holly another drink and then proceeded to take our three-course dinner request. We continued to converse about everything at Petrus that night: our past relationships, sex, children, politics, religion, and the countries we would like to visit. These conversations further solidified how much in common I had with Holly, and also reinforced my attraction to her, both physically and emotionally. We fed each other dessert, she drank two-thirds of the bottle of wine, and began to get extremely touchy-feely with me. Holly was on cloud nine and so was I. She was a bit tipsy by the time our amazing dinner ended, but still lucid enough to want to continue the night.

  “Let’s go to a club... let’s dance our asses off,” she said loudly, except this time she didn’t care if anyone heard her exuberant outbursts.

  “Fine by me,” I said, as I took my phone out and searched for the best dance club in all of Hong Kong.

  I paid the $800 dinner tab with my company card and escorted Holly out of the restaurant. We staggered out of the building like a couple of kids coked up on Adderal, sharply focused solely on fun and exploration. We got into a cab and headed straight for a club called Lynx. According to what I read online, it was a pretty hard club to get into. However, that is what connections are for. I called Ted and asked him if he could get us in somehow. In a bit of coincidence, the V.P. of Psytech was really good friends with the owner of Lynx and Ted. My boy called in for one last favor.

  The line for Lynx was around the block. The crowd was pretty mixed. The majority, of course, were probably ten years younger than both Holly and me, but the VIP line was full of sophisticated, beautiful people in their late 20s to early 30s. We walked right up to the tan, ’roided-out bouncer, wearing a skin-tight, short-sleeve cotton T-shirt and skinny jeans. He had razor-shaped eyebrows and massive jowls.