This friend of mine Jordie… he’s a vampire. We met when we were eleven. I had shimmied out my bedroom window for a little after dark exploration and bumped into him, fang-deep in Mrs. Odlum’s tabby. I remember him wiping the sides of his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Nothin.’” He had lowered the cat by the tail and it’s front paws brushed the pavement where he was looking.
“Ok… well… do you wanna go check out that house they’re building up there?”
“Yeah, ok.” He tossed the carcass into the hedge. We’ve been pals ever since.
Growing up was difficult for Jordie. He could only go out at night and most kids were a little put off by all the blood sucking. I have to admit, even though he swears he could never do it, I still get a little uncomfortable when he stares at my neck – unconsciously or not.
He rarely smiled because he was embarrassed about his teeth. The fangs weren’t that bad, but when they grew in, the rest of his teeth went crooked. And his mother, who worked at the dry cleaner, couldn’t afford braces. Besides, what do orthodontists know about vampire incisors?
The hardest part for Jordie was that by the time people his age started going out at night, he had no idea how to act around them. He was like the organically grown kid, lovingly cultivated in the back yard by his enviro-parents, who when his mother decides to start her own yoga practice, is harvested early and sent to a public high school. Only then does he discover he hasn’t learnt a thing. He’s a socially inept beanstalk in the wrong shoes. Add that to a chalky complexion, bad teeth and coke bottle glasses (the glasses weren’t the result of vampirism, just an unfortunate coincidence) and you’ve got Jordie at fifteen.
Adulthood has proved no less frustrating. Since working nine to five isn’t an option, Jordie trades Forex from home. (I have no idea how vampires got by before the Internet.) He still has trouble meeting people and finding a girlfriend has been especially tough. I try to set him up, but of course, I have to explain to Jordie’s prospective dates that he is a vampire. And it’s always the same scenario. The girl pictures staring into the shimmering yellow eyes of some pale Adonis, who is capable of leaping from the fourth storey window of her apartment and will nonetheless reveal to her his tortured soul, with hopes that she might ease his suffering. Other than the tortured soul part, Jordie inevitably disappoints.
Which is why I’m writing this. I would like to appeal to Hollywood to quit making vampires look so fucking cool. Not only is it ruining Jordie’s love life, but also, it’s getting tiresome: Pasty yet handsome ninjas in leather jackets, impeccably dressed aristocrats with plasma habits, teenage demigods who live in barns and drive sports cars… Take all your New Blood and True Moon or whatever the fuck it is, and shove it. Let’s see a vampire show about an awkward shut-in who plays World Of Warcraft all night. (A secondary character could be the best friend, wise and good-looking, whom despite his own significantly charmed life, takes the time to help his buddy sort stuff out.) It could star that dude from ‘Zombieland‘ – with Spike Jonze directing!
On a positive note, I found a guy in Orange County who specializes in braces for rich people’s pets. He used to be a regular orthodontist, until some years ago when a woman stormed his office with her boston terrier and a black American Express. “Mugsy,” she explained, had a severe under bite and was having a hard time getting kibble into his mouth. He was dangerously thin. The doctor agreed to get Mugsy straightened out and shortly after, claiming to have found his calling, revamped his practice to service only animals. The online “before and afters” look pretty good. I haven’t told Jordie yet, but I’ve been emailing the doctor and he has agreed to take on the case. I’m planning on driving Jordie down next month. I hope we don’t get all the way to California just so he can sink his teeth into the other clients.
– A. Vice
