I don’t know anyone who enjoys a thick, juicy, very rare hamburger more than my friend Ana. Since I hadn’t seen my favorite vampire/bookstore owner in what felt like an eternity, I thought I’d get into the Fourth of July spirit and invite her to the cookout.
“It is my patriotic duty to invite you to our barbecue tomorrow,” I informed her. “Can you close down the store for an hour or so? I’ll reward you with the rarest burger I have ever grilled to make it well worth your while.”
The very first time I’d met Maine’s coolest vampire, it had been over a burger dinner set up by my witch friends, who had been intent on playing matchmaker. Of course, they’d never admit to meddling in my love life. If you ask Waltzing Matilda, Volcanica Ivy, and Ti-Diana, they were merely introducing me to a very attractive, fellow bookworm.
“I’d love to see my favorite blogger,” Ana replied with a chuckle, “but I’m going to have to pass on that burger. I’m a vegan now.”
I almost fell out of my chair, which would’ve been very embarrassing since I was making the call from my desk at work.
“You’re a vampire, Anastasia!” Clearly I was upset because I rarely called her by her full name. But exiling meat from one’s diet was definitely cause for such a reaction.
“I’m well aware of that, genius,” she quipped. “I’ve been around for centuries, dude, and I’ve got to change things up every few decades to keep myself from getting bored to death. Any before you make a smart ass comment about how boredom is not one of the very few things that can actually kill a vampire, let me clarify that I was being sarcastic, Sheldon.”
I should have given her props for her witty reference of The Big Bang Theory, but I was in no mood to hand out accolades to vampires who refused to eat meat.
What was next? Zombies that didn’t crave brains?
“Ana the vegan vampire,” I mumbled and didn’t care that my coworkers were giving me the oddest looks. “Any other surprises I should know about before I see you tomorrow?”
The pause was way too long to be good. I braced myself for the worst.
“Guess what I did last night?” Ana asked playfully, perhaps sensing that I was troubled by such a radical change and now longing to get back on my good side.
“Hmmmm…” I faked Deep Thought to emphasis how miffed I was with her. “You turned into a bat and flew out to LA for some sushi. Or are you not Southern Cali vegan yet?”
“This no meat thing is really getting to you,” she observed in a manner that made me imagine her pushing her oversize glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “If that’s the case, maybe I should skip telling you about last night.”
I was hurt. Here I was, bored at work, talking to one of my closest friends, and she was now dangling and then withdrawing a tantalizing secret from me.
“I went to the Trump rally,” Ana blurted out quickly like she hoped my ears would not be able to pick and comprehend the words.
This time, I did fall out of my chair. And I continued the call from the office floor.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” I pleaded.
“That’s not my type of humor, Austin,” she pointed out. “I know you’re not a supporter based on your blog posts, but I happen to be a fan.”
“You’re really not kidding?” I asked again as I rolled around on the floor beneath my desk as my coworkers looked on in confusion.
“Straight up, mister,” she assured me. “Vampires might have evolved past the point where we hunt humans for food, but we still like it when your kind causes a little chaos and makes the blood boil. Trump reminds me of the kind of men who were in power back when I was young, mortal, and denied the right to vote.”
I was speechless. First, Ana had given up meat. Then she had taken up Trump. This was not what I had in mind when I decided to spread a little Independence Day cheer.
“Is your brain still solid, or is it currently melting and dripping out of your ears and onto your shirt?” she mocked with an adorable laugh from the safety of her bookstore where my cold, evil glares could do her no harm.
“Was that buffoon Governor LePage at the rally, too?” I asked as I curled up in the fetal position under my desk and wished I had never made this phone call and opened up such an evil Republican Pandora’s box.
“How are we even friends?” I moaned and threw the phone as far away from me as the cord would allow it to go.
Then I wept for my friend, my friendship, her poor, deprived stomach, and my country’s political future.
Here we are, about to celebrate our independence, and how do we choose to exercise that freedom? By voting for a racist, sexist, hate monger that only a vampire could love…
Exercise your right to follow me on Pinterest!