I have been accused by my friends of trying too hard to find undead creatures in everyday life. Probably true. But there are times when even the most skeptical have to believe. Such a time was had recently.
I went to dinner with some of my girlfriends, leaving our spousal units at home. We went to a very nice restaurant, lovely view, excellent food, wonderful service. And a vampire tending bar.
Now, before you argue, let me first say that he was an incredibly handsome man. Looked to be in his late 20's, dark chocolate skin with no blemishes, twinkling brown eyes, deep and sexy voice, six-foot-plus, athletic build. So far, so very dreamy. We all clustered around, eager to take our time ordering drinks so that we could gaze at him and absolutely NOT compare him to those spousal units back home.
But then he smiled. Widely. His teeth were sparkling white -- you couldn't look away if you tried. And as he smiled long and wide, I gazed upon the most obvious set of elongated eyeteeth since Nosferatu.
All his teeth were long -- without having a tape measure at hand, we all felt they were easily fifty percent longer than anyone else's, perhaps double. But the eyeteeth were longer.
We were seated and discussed. Yes, all agreed, those were some long teeth. The length of the eyeteeth confirmed it -- he was a vampire. But, was he perhaps not a pureblood? The conversation turned to the other teeth -- did their overall length indicate a werewolf parent as well as vampiric?
After dinner, we went back to the bar, happy to find Count Hunkula still tending. Some probing questions revealed that he preferred night shifts, felt men should always dress well and look their best, agreed that rare meat was the way to go, always chose red wine over white, and felt that the ideal woman would be one who didn't mind never seeing the sun.
On the way home my girlfriends all agreed that he had to be at least half-vampire/half-werewolf. Some held out for pure vampire. Quite the argument ensued. Sadly, though, they all refuse to go back, because they're afraid to find out he's an undead in a very real and very permanent way.
I'm not allowed to go back because my husband said that he wasn't going to compete with Count Hunkula for my affections. I'm okay with that. I don't want to go back and find out he's just a regular gorgeous human guy with extra-long teeth. As always, I'd rather keep the fantasy alive.
Labels: Count Hunkula, eyeteeth, Jemma Chase, night shift, Nosferatu, red wine, teeth, undead, vampire, werewolf, werewolves, writer, writing