Just a Pint

I hate most vampire stories (except for The Legacy of Kain, and Dracula). They are always populated with dark, mysterious, sexy, beautiful people who pretty much act as both the author's, and the writer's, wet dream. These stories usually rely on this wet

Abe only needed one pint. He'd get that later though, after he left the waffle hut.

"Babe," The waitress using terms of endearment for his tip was a cute little ginger with two more months until the moral majority decided she was old enough to have sex, buy cigarettes, and join the military, "you're in here at least, like, four times a week, every week, you eat, like, a ton, and you're always in shape, how do you do it?"

Abe laughed and gave her a teasing, "I'm a vampire," wink.

"Oooo, are you, I couldn't tell with out your white face paint and black eye shadow," she was leaning on the table; over the table.

"I'm keeping a low profile, if the other vampires found out about me," he gestured with his head over to the table of goth kids, "they'll want to hang out and talk about bad music and how much the football players are posers."

The waitress, Lindsay according to her name tag, laughed, "More toast, hun?"

Abe nodded. She left. Exit stage kitchen.

Abe was in fact a vampire.

And breakfast reminded him not just of the morning, but mostly of the fifties. Everyone thought of vampires as ancient, or victorian, or coming from some dark age. Not Abe. Abe left the sunlight behind in the nineteen fifties. And here was the kicker. He never met a vampire. Abe had all the vampire stuff; fangs, aversion to sunlight, thirst for blood, and a sudden liberalized morality, but nobody ever bit him, and he certainly didn't go around biting random people. That would be traumatic for doners.

Abe robbed blood banks; or he would thief a pint from a hospital.

"Hey hun, I'm off," Lindsay was rumpling up her apron and taking a seat across from Abe in the booth, "want some company."

"No go away," he teased, "I've got important work here!"

Lindsay rolled her eyes, "the bacon isn't that important."

She could have been a stripper. A damn good stripper. But then again, thought Abe, dancing for coke money? probably not the wisest life choice. Abe didn't apologize for flirting with her, even if his body was thirty years older than hers for the past fifty-six years. Abe had few qualms about this kind of thing after being other than human for so long.

 "How's mom."

"The usual; Anti-depresents, positive self-talk, met the worlds most awesome guy," she gave an exaggerated double thumbs up, "I give it a month before she starts drinking again."

Abe laid his hand over hers, "You okay?"

She said she was fine, and looked off blankly. It suggested that she wasn't, "You want to talk about it."

"Not right now," She blinked, "I got that referral from the Dean for my scholarship."

"Good." Something was different, two days ago Lindsay was ecstatic over the possibility of the referral from just one of her teachers. Abe needed to get some blood. He would have pulled the flask out of his back pocket for a quick drink, he didn't want to do that in front of Lindsay.

"You, don't sound too happy about the referral?"

Her face didn't change, but Abe saw it now like he hadn't in years. It was drained and pale and worn, like it hadn't been since she was using. Life slowly left her.

"Mom cried last night," she cradled her head in her hand and laughed a breath, "She cries about everything, but last night she cried..." her eyes were somewhere between the floor and a thousand miles down.

"About you leaving for school."

Lindsay's mother couldn't find her way into a bottle with out Lindsay opening it for her. When Lindsay stopped opening it, her mother found the way in on her own, but wouldn't get out. She'd cry, she'd yell. She never meant to let Lindsay believe that a two year old child could drive her father away, but people often did things they didn't mean to do.

"She doesn't want you to leave does she?"

Lindsay shook her head, "I worked my a*s off to get accepted into a decent school, I stopped smoking pot because I know the government programs would test for it. My grades are f*****g awesome. I have a chance to not," she began to sob at this point, "end up like her."

"You worked really hard." Abe was expecting this. but he didn't have a plan for it... other than offing Lindsay's mom, and he couldn't really bring himself to that.

"She just f*****g crashed after dad left," not unlike Abe, Lindsay's father just up and disappeared one day.

"What did she say?" Abe didn't need to ask. He already knew that she didn't really say anything. 'What will I do,' 'Go ahead leave me here alone,' all the while pouring herself another glass of wine.

Lindsay Shrugged, "I Should get home, maybe this will blow over."

"Lindsay," She turned around, "What are you gonna do if it doesn't?"

She shrugged her shoulders and left.

Abe paid his bill, leaving a modest tip. He was a vampire, he didn't have to impress anybody. He left the waffle hut. He needed a pint. Just a pint, something to help him forget just how ineffectually human he still was.

Author's Note

worried about grammar and some clarity issues.

Reviews

[LeeLee Ryder]

I like the casualness and the bits of humor peppered in the beginning. Being a regular at the waffle hut sets up the everyday or should I say every night life of a vampire & shows that Abe is an regular guy .. well except for his need for blood pints instead of a beer( pint) .. As for the familiarity between Abe & Lindsey, you might beef it up a little by Abe having a special name for her. I think their close relationship is poised by her taking off her work apron and taking a seat.. This shows that she want to relate to Abe as a friend and confident. Anyway, its a good start,. Good job Alwaz

[just rose.]

This is a cool twist. I like a good vampire story but agree with your sentiments regarding point of view. Some forget that they live in the world.

[Druella]

I like the story, is there going to be more of it?? Down side is that there is no explaination as to why a vampire is eating so much. That kind of threw me off. Let me know if you add more to it. I would love to read more of this story. Or is it your goal to leave it at that with a wanting for more? The only other thing that I could see would be more helpful would be a bit more of a brief background, he's been there a lot, has she talked that openly from the start? How long did it take before she was that open to him?