This was not how my Saturday night was supposed to go.
That super cute guy I met in the coffee shop? I was supposed to have dinner with him, talk about our taste in movies – we both like horror films – and complain about our jobs – I’m a paralegal, he works in finance. We were supposed to have dessert, go for a walk, share a kiss, wander back to my place for a little post-date action. I had it all planned out, how I’d pour him a glass of wine and sit on the couch, and reach up and unbutton the top button…
You know what was not supposed to happen? The fangs, for one thing.
Yeah, as soon as my pretty white neck came into view my Cute Date turned into Eldritch Creature of the Night. Complete with fangs, pupil-less eyes, and a hunger for blood. Luckily, I was still wearing my cross. The Big Guy and I might not be on the best of terms, but it’s too damn useful not to wear, being one: a cross and two: pure silver.
So Mr. Fang couldn’t lay a hand on me without burning himself, and it was quick work to grab the stake from under the coffee table and take care of him. Then, of course, there was vampyre dust all over my carpet – my brand new carpet – and I had to vacuum when all I wanted to do was curl up with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.
I thought about calling my mother, but she’d only say “I told you so.”
It was a terrible night, and a terrible date. But you know what the saddest part is?
This doesn’t even make my Top Ten.