Bill The Vampire - 01 (4 page)

“I can tell,” she replied, gesturing down at the bags she had just finished rifling through.

“You?”

“Me what?”

“What are you up to?” I asked.

“Well, besides talking to a very nervous (
and here I thought I was being so smooth
) sounding guy on the train, I was just out enjoying the day. Since the nervous sounding guy I'm talking to also sounds like a fairly decent fellow (
bonus!
), I'd say my day is going pretty well,” she said in a friendly tone. Damn, she had a nice smile... amongst other nice parts.

Sensing an opening, I pounced... figuratively. “There's still plenty of day left,” I suggested.

“That there is,” she agreed... hot damn, I was a
playa
!

“Well, it's pretty nice outside. I don't suppose you'd maybe like to take a quick walk through the park, maybe we could grab a coffee at one of those sidewalk cafes.”

She frowned a bit at that (
oh crap, we're losing the patient
), “Sorry, I can't.”

I've been here before, so I knew the drill to try to save a little bit of my crushed ego. “No. I didn't mean it like that, I...”

But she cut me off before I could finish, “It's not you, silly. I'm not really up for a bit of sun right now (
aha! There's a bit of foreshadowing I should have been paying attention to
). Besides, we're almost at my stop. I have some stuff to get done before tonight.”

Okay, the deal wasn't dead yet. The door was still hanging open, so I put my foot in it.

“What's tonight?” I asked.

“A couple of my friends are coming over. I'm throwing a little party.”

“That's cool.” Yeah, I was back to being lame.

“It's nothing big.”

“A little get together with close friends is always fun.”

“You think so?” she said as she suddenly turned and looked me dead in the eye. “I don't suppose you'd want to come?” she continued, her tone suddenly changing, almost becoming shy. “I mean, I know we just met. I don't want to come across as too aggressive.”

Too aggressive!? Christ, she could’ve thrown me down and raped me right there on the subway and I still wouldn't have considered that
too
aggressive. Note to self: remember that little fantasy for later on when I'm alone.

“No, no, it's cool,” I said, trying to reassure her. “I'm not really too busy tonight (
an understatement if ever there was one
). I could pop by.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” I asked, trying to keep from sounding too desperately excited.

“Well, you seem like a sweet guy, and I'm just warning you now, my friends can get a little rowdy.”

“I can handle rowdy. They raise us tough in Brooklyn,” I fibbed.

“Alright then, it's a date.”

A date? As in a ‘be somewhere together, maybe hold hands, maybe maybe make out, and if things go really well... wake up together’ type of date? Hell yeah! Damn, as soon as I told someone about this, my cred amongst my buddies would automatically shoot up by about ten-thousand percent!

“Sounds good,” I said, managing to stifle the part of my brain that wanted to instead shout out, “OH YEAH, BABY! MAKE ME YOUR PLAYTHING!”

“Great!” she replied, sounding genuinely pleased.

“So, what time does this soiree get started?”

“Show up any time after dark,” she said with a glimmer in her eye. “Here's the address, come up to the third floor,” she continued as she removed a pen from her purse. She then took my hand and wrote on it. Wow. Didn't think that happened outside of the movies. This was starting to turn into a letter to a smut rag. '
Dear Penthouse, I never thought this would happen to me...
'

A moment later, the train stopped and Sally popped to her feet.

“This is me,” she said as she walked to the door. “Hope to see you there.” She then stepped out to the platform and gave a little wave.

I looked down at the address on my hand. I figured it was best to memorize it, lest my palm get all sweaty. I looked up again, a scant second later, and Sally was gone. I jumped to my feet and stuck my head out the door to give her a quick wave goodbye, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Had I been in a slightly less euphoric mood, I might have noticed that we were at the very end of the station. The nearest stairs were a hundred feet away to the right. There's no way she could have gotten there in the time I looked away. To the left... there was only the darkness of the subway tunnel.

It's amazing how just a few random events can turn things into the perfect shit storm. Under normal circumstances, Tom or Ed (
or most likely both
) would have been home when I arrived and, between the three of us, we would have probably psyched each other out and just blown the whole damn thing off in favor of going out for pizza. Not that we're allergic to fine women, or anti-social, or anything, but I have no doubt the whole 'too good to be true' aspect of it all would have come up and realistic heads would have prevailed. Well, either that or we would have all been enticed by the possibility of some prime pussy, and would now all be lying around, kind of dead. I give it a fifty/fifty shot of either scenario occurring, and, since I'm not a complete asshole, I guess in the end, only one of us biting the big one is better than our families having to throw a triple funeral.

Regardless, none of that came to pass. As I mentioned, Tom had gone to his family's house for the day. Ed must have taken a break and gone out for a bite to eat, because he wasn't home, either. That left me. Just great! I knew that, with no real voice of reason to turn to, I'd be left with my own thoughts. Problem was that the voice in my head that typically reasons with me pretty much sounds like a harsher amalgam of my two roommates. Where they might have decided on a different course of action for the evening, I knew that if I considered, for even a second, not going to this party, I'd have to contend with my own subconscious mercilessly assaulting me for being a pansy-ass loser with questionable sexual orientation.

Oh, well. At the time, I figured the worst case scenario would be that I'd be out a few bucks for train fare. At least I would have killed a few hours that would have probably otherwise been spent on some online raid with my guild brothers. A definite night of
World of Warcraft
versus the slight chance of hooking up with some chick straight from the pages of a
Victoria’s Secret
catalog. Millions of people play the Powerball lottery each week with much worse odds. So, ultimately, I figured why the hell not?

I nuked myself a couple of pieces of chicken (
no point in heading toward probable disappointment hungry
) and then proceeded to clean myself up. I figured simple was best. I wouldn't even know what to wear to look 'cool' in the village, so, instead, I opted for business casual. That was usually a safe way to go when in doubt, at least during company meetings. I was just winging it here. I might not look cool, but at least I wouldn't look scummy. Hopefully Sally wasn't one of those chicks who was into dating dirt bags. Speaking of which... was this really a date? Sure the word had come up, but the reality was I had no idea. Hell, I wasn't even sure I'd give her a ten-percent chance of being there, so worrying about it being a date or not seemed to be getting a little ahead of myself. Ooh, Sally and a little head. Now there's a possibility I could get behind. Anyhow...

I got myself together as best as I could. Not a male model by any stretch of the imagination, but not exactly pre-
Subway
Jared looking, either. It'd do. I grabbed my keys and wallet (
and stuffed an emergency $20 into one of my socks... momma didn't raise no complete fool
) and headed out to meet my fate, literally, as it turns out.

* * *

Saturday night trains are a lot like rush hour trains. People are in a hurry to get where they're going and, for the most part, stay out of each other’s way. Even the homeless seem to mostly understand this, and the onslaught of panhandling lessens a bit during these times. After all, getting in front of a determined person headed from point A to point B is a good way to get trampled. Thus it was. I rode the N train to the closest stop to my destination.  It let me off about five short blocks away from where I was headed, which I was able to walk with no problem.

In retrospect, the whole trip was a little underwhelming. If Hollywood has taught me anything, it's that fateful trips like these are filled with foreshadowing. It should have been storming outside, but it was crystal clear. I should have been accosted by at least one semi-crazed, but mysteriously wizened, stranger on the train, warning me of dire doom, but, instead, I managed to snag a seat, and nobody even batted an eye at me. For Christ sakes, the address I was given should have been some popular, but inexplicably creepy, nightclub with a non-subtle name like
Type-O,
or maybe
The Blud Room,
but noooo. Instead, the main floor of the building was a fairly nondescript bar. Loud and full, but not packed, and certainly not crawling with creeps that were practically screaming “Come in here and we'll drain your ass dry!” It figures. The world can't even deliver me clichés correctly.

My instructions were to use the side door and head up to the third floor. I buzzed and was immediately let in. There was no challenge of ‘Who dares trespass?’ No hulking bouncer opened the door only to give me an evil smirk to let me know I was fresh meat. It was just a stairwell. Jeez!

As I climbed, the sounds changed slightly. The techno-rock music from the first floor was fairly muted by the time I reached the second floor landing. As I continued upward, it was slowly drowned out by a different techno beat. This
was
SoHo, after all.

Oh, by the way, in case you had forgotten from earlier... fuck SoHo!

Now, where was I? Yeah, yeah, still a fucking corpse, but I'm getting back to that. I'm still doing the whole life flashing before my eyes bit... although it's odd that the majority of the flashing seems to be from the last twelve hours, but whatever.

I reached the third floor, the source of the new music, and knocked... and knocked again... and knocked a third time. Didn't these guys just buzz me in? I was about to turn around and leave, visions of Sally and her friends (
hot friends no doubt... while we're on this fantasy, let's say hot nude friends
) standing there, laughing at my idiocy, going through my not-surprised-in-the-least mind, when finally the door opened.

If this were a trashy romance novel, I'm sure the guy standing in the door would be described to the rapidly moistening female reader by his perfect hair, dazzling eyes, and bulging muscles. However, here in the real world, guys like me tend to see guys like him, and automatically assume one thing about them; that they will, in all likelihood, be complete asshole douchebags.

“What?” douchebag asked me in a bored tone (
alright! At least one cliché was holding true tonight
), looking me over as if I were something unpleasant he had stepped in.

“Sally invited me,” I said, trying to sound just as bored to this fellow who looked uncomfortably like a few of the jocks who had handed me ass-kickings back in high school. At this, though, his demeanor noticeably changed. He straightened up and adopted an easy smile. He still looked like a douche, but at least now he was a douche who was acting... err… less douchey.