Dance with a Vampire

Dance with a Vampire


‘The first time ever I saw your face…’

I wanted to thump it because you were blocking the entrance door to the Ebony Rose Club. My first time date, Dave, a tall vampire Goth complete with fangs (I was fervently hoping they'd be sunk into my neck at some point during the evening) had just gained admittance to the Halloween Ball being held there.

You claimed I looked underage and club policy was strict, admission to over twenty-ones only. I argued I was less than a day away from reaching that pinnacle and had the birth certificate about my person to prove it. Come midnight I would be of age and what was a few hours? You shook your head, saying, a rule was a rule and not to be flouted. ‘What kind of anally retentive twat are you?’ I asked cordially. You calmly replied you were the kind that anally retained rules.

I appealed to Dave hoping he’d demonstrate some real vampire traits and drain away all your lifeblood so I could step delicately over your body and go to the ball after all. He didn’t. He simply shrugged, gave me a quick kiss and said ‘see you around, babe’ and then promptly attached himself to a romantic lady Goth with flowing hair and a pallor suggestive of already having given one pint of blood too many. I made a mental note never to date a bisexual again. It doubled the chances of being dumped.