The Saga of Dave Tyrant
“Vampire Armageddon is approaching!” Tim said with confidence. Every employee just shrugged it off, knowing Tim’s bad habit of watching too many movies/TV shows. “I’ve seen your apartment building and the places you hang out.” He slipped a knife into my back pocket as I was making a pizza for one of my good friends. “You should take care of yourself out there, Dave. If you hear a hiss from behind, you should not try to run—vampires are faster than mortals.”
“I can take care of myself,” I said to Tim, speaking to him as if he were a confused kid worried about one of his close friends. “Tim, your run’s up,” yelled Chris, the general manager, from the other side of the store. I called out, “Buckle up, drive safe,” as he walked out the door with his delivery.
There was Joe walking in the door as Tim was walking out. Joe was a portly gentleman in his early forties, retired military with a lot of political views, the type of guy who listens to Rush Limbaugh every morning. “So what do you think Dave? Is Tim gay or a virgin?” asked Joe as he threw his hot bag on the rack.
“Probably both,” I replied. “Good question. You know he hasn’t had a girlfriend the whole four years I’ve worked here.” At the same time I was saying “girlfriend,” another co-worker by the name of Boris was adding “Yeah, I don’t even think he has any friends outside of work the whole time I’ve known him, and he started working here about the same time I did, six years ago.”
“Well, Tim’s just probably too much of a nice guy for any of those broads these days, and he’s a pretty smart person. You know how shady bitches can be,” I said.
“Well, what about him talking about vampires, werewolves and zombies all the time?” asked Boris. “That kind of jacked-up garbage has been known to scare off some girls. Boris was the young college-type intellectual with a slight Russian accent that has faded since his family moved here when he was seven.
“Don’t let Tim know, but I found verses in the Bible that back up his theory about vampires,” said Chris. “It talks about people with razor-sharp teeth and being blood-suckers.”
“Speak of the Devil,” I said. The door rang as Tim came walking through. “That was fast,” I added. “Yeah, it was just a couple blocks away,” he said.
“You ready to go, Dave?” asked Chris.
“Ohhh yeah!” I replied, already starting to take off my uniform shirt, exposing the huge hemp leaf on the shirt I was wearing underneath. “You’re about to go, too, right Tim?” I asked as he was counting his tips.
“Can you give me a ride to 5 Points?”
“OK, I just have to wait for my pizza to come out of the oven. I’m gonna give it to my friend at the bar in exchange for some beer.”
“Don’t let my trash fall out,” Tim demanded as I was opening the door to his truck. “I don’t like to litter,” he added. So then I told him, “Trash looks better spread out than it does in one big clutter.” I could slightly hear the gospel station coming through the speakers as we rode to the bar.
“You should hang out for a while. I’ll buy you a drink or something,” I said.
“Alright. I can’t stay long, though. It’s almost past my bed time,” said Tim.
To be continued. . . .