She moved the show along at a fast clip, taking four calls before the first break, returning with a rambling commentary on the latest vampire soap opera TV show, speculating about celebrities who might be secret vampires, and so on. Really, this sounded like any other talk radio advice show. Just the content was different. I had no idea what that meant.
Well, partly, it made me feel better. Like this was all normal somehow. Or could be made to seem normal. As snarky and punchy as she sounded, she also seemed really e
asy to talk to. Which was why her show had been going on for years, and why people kept calling.
If I really wanted to talk to her I could probably just find her. Ask Rick for an introduction. And did I want to talk to her? Hadn’t I already hashed over this enough? But the radio show was safely anonymous. I could do it. I could call.
I had a sudden horrifying thought: what if Ginny listened to the show?
What the hell. I called. I mostly expected to get a busy signal and told myself that if I got a busy signal I’d take it as a sign and hang up. But I didn’t. I got a screener who asked me to hold a minute. I supposed I could have hung up then, but once again I didn’t. What was happening to me?
“Hi, thanks for waiting,” the screener said when he came back on. “Can you tell me your name, hometown, and what you want to talk about?”
I wasn’t even sure I could say what I wanted to talk about. I really just… wanted to talk. “Um, yeah. Sam from Denver. I’m a vampire. I guess you probably hear this all the time, but I’ve met this woman and suddenly realize I have no idea how a relationship with someone who’s mortal would even work.”
“Well, you’ve called the right place.” The guy sounded bored when he answered, which told me that yes, he’d heard this one before. “Hold on and I’ll put you in the queue. There’s no guarantee Kitty will take your call. You’ll need to turn your radio down.” He put me on hold, and the show came in through the phone line.
Kitty wasn’t going to take my call, I was pretty sure. I wanted to giggle. I mean, who did this kind of thing? I kept listening.
“Hi, Kitty.” This was a woman talking, no-nonsense and brusque. “So, I’m a vampire. And I have to know—how do I convince people that I’m not some sultry man-eating sex kitten? For some reason everyone who finds out I’m a vampire expects me to be a sultry sex kitten. Even other vampires!”
“This is where the stereotype thing backfires,” she said, sounding as sympathetic as she had yet. “This is the same thing as thinking all vampires are hot. Can I ask a couple of questions? Do you have a job? Are you with a Family? How often are you actually running into this attitude?”
“I—I guess I don’t really have a job. I’m with a Family. I work for the Family, it’s just easier that way. And the Master—well, he puts a lot of store by appearances. He likes the seductive look. But it’s really not me, and just because I’m a vampire doesn’t mean I should have to act like someone else’s idea of one.”
This sounded like someone I’d get along with. It almost made me want to hang out with more vampires. Maybe I’d like more of them that I thought.
“That’s a tough one,” Kitty said. “On the one hand, if you’re working for a Master, you might think of it as a uniform. On the other hand, since it sounds like this is pretty offensive and difficult for you, you might ask if you can please do something else. Try to get across that you’d be much happier in a different role. Not being your Master I can’t speculate on what’s really going on or what that might be.”
“I just… the thought of doing this for all eternity just makes me kind of tired, you know?”
“Which is exactly why you have to do something about it. Offer a compromise, work it out. Other than that… well, turns out vampires have to live just like the rest of us—one day at a time.”
“Thanks for listening, Kitty.”
“Thanks for calling. Moving on... I’ve got a call here from Sam in Denver. Sam, you’re up, what’s your problem?”
What?
“Oh… um… hi?”
“Hello, Sam. You have a question for me?” She seemed amused. And why wouldn’t she, I must have sounded like I’d been pushed on stage naked.
Well, I was here. Might as well take advantage. “Okay, I have a confession. I’ve never really listened to your show until tonight. I just know you by reputation, and I figured this whole thing was a sensationalist gimmick. But—”
“There’s always a but,” she said cheerfully.
“But… something happened. I met this girl. Woman. Person. She’s great. And I’m a vampire. A young one, I’ve only been a vampire for like fifteen years, but still. I’m confused. How…” I stumbled, either from a sudden bout of stage fright or because I just couldn’t articulate it. “I’m having trouble figuring out the logistics of it. She has to work during the day, I have to sleep during the day, there’s an overlap of maybe six hours, and that’s only in winter.” Even I thought I sounded whiney.
“You know why I’m going to have way less sympathy for you than you’re expecting?” Her tone was sympathetic enough. She wasn’t being mean. But she wasn’t going to cut me slack. I was kind of hoping she’d cut me slack. “Because of all the mortal human couples who have to deal with swing shifts. Because of the nurses who work all night whose spouses never get to see them, for the night-shift cops who never get to go to the movies with their sweeties. Other people have been dealing with these problems for a long time. You’re not as special as you think you are.”
“Oh, it’s not that I think I’m special. I just…” I sighed. The problem had gotten much bigger in my head in the last few minutes. “This isn’t the life I thought I was going to have. I thought I’d have everything figured out by now.”
“Nobody ever has it all figured out. You actually seem to be trying to work this stuff out, which makes you an okay guy in my book. But I’ve said it before—don’t attribute to the supernatural what may just be ordinary bad luck.”
“But what about the supernatural bad luck that got me into this in the first place? I’m just starting to really get a grip what this means, how a lot of this works, and you know what I’ve figured out? That the real tragedy of vampirism is realizing I’m going to be around long enough to see that, eventually, no one’s going to remember Nirvana. You know they’re playing “Lithium” on classic rock stations now?”
She said, “Sam, that’s got nothing to do with vampirism. That’s just getting old.”