THIRD RATE VAMPIRE

 Third rate vampire. Short story.

It was 2008 I was 28 years old, renting a room in a three bedroom house in Suburban Bolingbrook. I had just moved out of an apartment with a girlfriend that liked cocaine.... She was a store manager at a clothing store and I was working and sold pills. We made 120k that year and could hardly pay rent such were our proclivities. I liked to snort a little H here and there (like every 5 mins). I realized before the year lease was up that our friendship was unhealthy and we were just functioning addicts basically. Our risky behavior feeding off one another was escalating. I'd say something crazy and grab a gun and mask and she'd be like "ok who's driving?". Her side piece girlfriend was still with her after I broke it off so I didn't feel too bad. So after we split I went on Craigslist and found a room to rent for five hundred bucks a month. I owned a portable DVD player all my possessions were in two Rubbermaid containers and all my clothes were in garbage bags. I had a little 2003 Hyundai Accent, I had no direction or idea of what my future would hold. The Half Crazy handyman with poor ratings on Craigslist was subletting the house for the owners, he liked to smoke crack and drink whenever he had money. I tried to stay away from this guy any chance I got because he was annoying and always wore wife beaters. I was completely isolated sleeping in a room with no furniture. When I first was shown the room he said "you see that twin-size mattress on the floor you can keep that, I fucked a Mexican chick on that once" he laughed, I tried to smile, more like winced and closed the door on his face. I was not in contact with any old friends and my habit had me living hand-to-mouth but I did not feel desperate. My drug use never bothered me, it's my expensive mistress that is always waiting for me. I had a laptop and I was looking to meet some new people especially some women. I have a weakness for women who wear all black The Goth type. So I'm on meetup.com and I find a vampire meetup group, I started laughing at first and then I saw how many members there were and I said fuck it so I signed up. I looked around my room... garbage bags of clothes some Rubbermaid containers and a twin size mattress that came with the room I said I need to get out of here and do something or I'm going to go crazy. I saw that the vampire Meetup group was going to go to the bar the exit in a week for a burlesque show by a burlesque troupe called red hot Annie. I've always been attracted to goth Punk weirdos nerds any type of inverted woman I usually get along with so I figured the vampire freaks wouldn't be much different.
I have been to the exit bar many times and had many good times there. Thursdays bondage night was always interesting. I figured what's the worst that could happen fuck it. I went to the party supply store and bought some cheap plastic vampire fangs that mold to your canines. I couldn't get the mold to work, fuck it I said I went to the kitchen and found some super glue. I superglued the plastic fangs to my teeth and held them there for a couple of minutes. After some experimenting I found that they would stay on for 20 minutes with the super glue.
     So on a Thursday night at 7 p.m. I left wearing all-black, with my two plastic fangs and a bottle of super glue in my pocket on my way to the exit... burlesque Showtime starting at 8 p.m.
As I parked I can see the place was packed, there had to be two hundred people upstairs I super glued my fangs on in the bathroom. Fuck, how do I find any of these people? I start slowly walking through the crowd, should I just start asking people if they are vampires? I was walking around smiling and making my fangs as visible as possible. Then the burlesque show started, and the music was loud as fuck. I order a Jack and Coke, as I gulp it down I chew down the cherry and a fang came off. God dammit I am such an idiot, so it's come to this I thought..... super gluing plastic vampire teeth to try to meet chicks. I'm holding the fang in my hand, defeated, embarrassed. I'm an idiot. I watched the rest of red hot Annie show and filtered out of the  Bar and back to my little shit box car. Well at least I got to see a good show and I guess I'm not a very good vampire.

THE LION'S DEN

 The Lion's Den:

 
The apartment is inhabited by two man-eaters.  The two big cats stalk and bring their kills home to lick off the first layer of skin, then they feed. Usually 6 to 8 weeks and they've stripped the male carcasses down to the bone and dump the bones out into the cold night. These bones of men lay on the street for some time, slowly they begin to reformulate back into men and walk the long walk back to visitor parking. On the drive home some men realize that they've not been fully reconstituted and something is missing, sometimes it's their heart, sometimes their sanity. Some will go back and try to get it back from the Lioness's, others just keep waiting for their missing parts to grow back. 
I was lucky for when they got their claws into me there was nothing left for them to take from me, I had been stripped down to bones years ago. I still on occasion drop by the Lions den to see what was on the most recent menu; "eh, mostly small game" I say, oh well "happy hunting girls". I'll let them gnaw on my bones if they're hungry enough, but only for the weekend.

Ball busting business reviews (some from the closed business bureau my side project)

3 reviews on clubs and clothing businesses 

JK

 

K&G Men's clothing store - review 
Category: Fashion, Style, Shopping

K&G Men's Store

Location: The one in Downers      

 

    K&G is the cheap skate's solution to formal/sports wear for the penny pinchers of the new millennium. Walking past the always empty Quiznos that does less business then a BSDM shop would do in an Amish town, you will find a store that will stimulate bowel movement. Entering K&G you will walk past the service desk full of half assed tailors that will size you wrong no matter what you buy. The measuring tape must read in hieroglyphics since every pair of pants I ever got here looked like they were made by Omar the tent maker, i.e. way too fucking big. I needed to Bogart a pair of walking stilts from the circus just to walk around in the motherfuckers. The tailors were seemingly powerless to make any real adjustments, and I looked like I was carrying a colostomy bag around in my pants, I was not impressed.

          The wanna be designer brands are so fucking mope that I laughed out loud at the first pair of Adolf brand black socks I saw starring back at me on the shelf. A whole cornucopia of knock off designer watches that will turn your wrist green in a matter of days are stacked up like babies waiting to be adopted. The terrible clientele of 20 and 30 something bonkey's come here to try to get their Briant Gumble look down to a T, and Bankrupted white men in their 40's trying to give off that "Professional" look are aimlessly moping threw out the place. The key to the bathroom had 45LBS of metal plates and gator tags bolted to it, so I felt like Cool Hand Luke dragging around a ball and chain just to take a piss. The only suit I bought here is big enough for the Dateline special on the half ton man, since it would fit him perfectly. These tailors obviously have poor eyesight and should not be trusted to do anything except ring the fucking cash register.

 Also an experimental archeologist is needed to identify the outdated clothing here that harkens back to ancient Sumerian settlements. I'd rather wear a wooden barrel with suspenders attached to it like some 1930's cartoon than ever wear another piece of clothing from K&G again.....

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CrazyBOOGIE NIGHTS-

Location: what do I look like? A fucking map?

Venue: T&A trading booth

 

Boogie nights is located in a shitty burb not worth mentioning, as the only landmarks in the area are a Speedway and Zebulon adult books were gay men give secret handshakes before they pass head in masse. Boogie nights is a bar slut magnet and Mecca for the late 30's balding man with the ubiquitous total gym physique. Hundreds of 20, 30 and 40 something's congregate here on the weekends to eye fuck potential flesh and hope to take someone to their home/car/alley for an awkward sexual experience, and then try to forget it by the next weekend. It's never a sausage fest here on the weekends as a plethora of low income vagina from the 847 storm the door to hunt man flesh and give there numbers out like cheese cubes on taste test day at Jewel.

       The local guys that iv seen come here are no competition to insane mopes and tough guys from the city that venture here, no sir the regular male clientele just gets the scraps off the floor and the bottom of the barrel. The handful of suave lady killers that come here by mistake get there pick of the litter, so the competition among females is fierce. Cat fights and hair pulling are common place when a good looking guy gets eye fucked by 12 different women.

           Drink specials are available but cheap skates don't get laid so I won't mention them.

The bartenders are quick and efficient, even when ordering 3 drinks at a time just for your self like I do. Pizza is available at certain times of the night near the entrance and is good for soaking up booze if suffering from whiskey dick. Many women that come here have enormous boobs and sport rhino booty's, in my opinion this is not a bad thing, but will turn off the handful of metrosexual's pretending to look at girls.

             I guess I can't entirely condemn this flab fortress since they have a lot of decent and semi decent looking broads here, but the décor is reminiscent of a 60 year old Puerto Rican  man's foreclosed beach house. Bright reds and purples along with awkward steps hiding among the place make it a slip and fall artist's wet dream.

           So by all means skip your ass down here and wear a Prada muscle T-shirt you found on sale at TJ Max and More and you might get lucky….

MOPE 

          

CRAZY ROCK STRIP CLUB:

 Located on the border of Romeotuckey off Joliet Rd. and Rt. 55, Crazy Rock is an enigma.  Inside you will find a strange concoction of Japanese businessmen that have been ejected from the Admiral for lude conduct, over the hill strippers, insane mopes like me, trashy local broads, and assorted fainghouls hiding in the shadows. The decor looks like Liberachi's Vegas fuck pad, without the rhinestone crusted grand piano of course. I never came in here without killing a 5^th of Jack during the night, so I never left this place standing, and never drove home from here. I do remember that if you want to keep most of your cheese to get lap dances up stairs, you gotta bring in a bottle of booze and hide it behind the toilet, filling your glass with your own booze instead of $5 a drink every time. I call this maneuver The Godfather; it will save you your hard earned cake and let you get stupefied on the cheap. I used to come here exclusively with 2 friends of mine, Scott and Bob. Scott looks like the King from the Burger King commercials, and Bob is a Third Reich aficionado.

           We would barge in here and take over a section of the place, with the main stage as the center piece of the main floor, the stripper poles go up 20ft all the way to the ceiling. This is useful when an over ambitious dancer decides to slide down the pole head first and catch her self at the last minute. Sometimes it works; sometimes a bitch gets taken to the ER.

         I almost always had an interesting time here, I realized that most of the broads working here will fuck the clientele if you have a steady job and shower once a day, unlike most of the mooks in Romeotucky. I like to pick out the trashiest dancers and broads that look like they have domeproblems, since that always guarantees a better private dance. Unfortunately this place has lost a lot of business due to other strip clubs have gone full nude, and there broads still have to wear pasties. The flip side is they are freakier than other places; I had bite marks on my neck like a fucking vampire assaulted me on several occasions. I once was so drunk I decided on popping some Viagra my buddy used to sling, and for the next 30 minutes I got all the Lap dances I could just to creep out the dancers.

         If you're just starting out in the strip club circuit, coming here is mandatory, but I'd rather go to Skybox or Playpen any day over this place.

 

 

 
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Meddellin Dreams

 I had a ridiculous plan to go to Colombia and maybe buy a sailboat and maybe sail some powder to ibiza...then party and piss away money until the cows came home. I wasn't taking my plan too seriously....it was more of a loose pipe dream that I knew wasn't possible to realize by myself. But I still wanted to get out of Chicago and clear my head atleast.

      I have a bad habit of getting exactly what I want in life and then becoming indifferent and bored with it. So I did email a guy in the coast of Colombia with a 35ft boat for sail and took 15k in cash with my cards and checks incase I really did decide to do it. I bought a one way ticket to Medellin and made no other arrangements. I flew out 5 days later. I arrived without my suitcase with 3 other people from my flight. I had to write up a receipt and leave a cell #...mine phone wasn't working so I decided I'd buy a new local phone the next day. At customs window the guy looked at me funny "its illegal to come here 1 way with no accommodations lined up...you shouldn't have been able to get here".

I grunted indifferently...he decided to help me out and looked wide eyed at me "ok um give me a name of a hotel your staying at" so I made up a fictional name to get me out of there and dude stamped my passport. I got a taxi driver at the airport that couldn't speak a lick of English...he took me to a top hotel that was 200$ a night. It was a 35min drive from the airport to the central district of meddellin (16 districts in meddellin). The driver asked for 20 I gave him 40$ cause dude was cool to me. I got to the hotel and quickly saw 3 young college age Americans laughing at their friend that was standing accross the street from the hotel...he would fall on his ass drunk...then attempt to stand again over and over again as they pointed and laughed. Hotel Security looked on indifferently. It was 1130pm and I was tired. I hid 15k in the room and went to sleep. Next day I went to the front desk and requested a English speaking driver for the day...then I enjoyed s banging buffet breakfast that blew my hair back. A 75yo man that looked like he was 50 showed up and we hit it off. I asked him for 3 things. First I need to buy a local phone to keep in touch with the airport for my bag. 2nd I needed valium to cool off the blow I knew I was going to be doing. And a metal worker to fix a custom knife that was in my luggage. I found out that my driver had lived in the states for 30 years. Did time for trafficking and came back to Medellin 10 years ago. He asked what I was doing there, I said vacation with a wink and a nod. He said you know I'm not in that business anymore but if you want something small let me know. I couldn't bear getting an old guy into trouble so I didn't oblige him with any drug stuff...just pills for the moment. So after I got the phone he called the airport and told them all my info. My bag would be delivered that night. I was so happy my knives and Italian designer shirts were on the way.
The rate was 15$ an hour I put 300$ into his hand for helping me out and showing up with a bag full of boxes of 2mg valium pills. I found out that the nerve center of meddellin is called public (publito) square...it was 2 blocks from my hotel. I walked around and saw men with open suitcases full of smokes and candy. I asked 1 of them for cocaine...he looked around and dove into his back pocket, he said 5$. I only had 10$
So I gave him the 10 and he handed me a empty cigarette box with a baggie. Had to be 3 grams of powder in the bag. I walked to a bar and ordered a beer and went to the pisser. I took out the baggie and set up the fattest rail of powder I'd ever seen and powered threw it. A long absent body jolt of euphoria exploded in my brain. I sat down and nursed my beer as I felt my heart thump like a pile driver. I walked back to my hotel and ate some valium to even out. I started thinking...and decided I really wasn't going to smuggle powder back to spain. That's not who I am. If I go there I'll just find out who is who in ibiza...and muscle my way into business. RIp out the cash and dope from those Eurotrash poofs and take over a few blocks for myself....who's gonna fuck with me in Spain? Yeah that's what I'll do.
I'll just stay here for a bit like a real vacation I thought. So the 3rd day I decided to play it cool and not cop any kilos or boats. Just enjoy myself as I always do. So after buying several more big bags of blow and eating valium I started getting goofy and loosing myself.
Benzodiazepines can induce panic⁸ attacks sometimes so I went looking for some heroin to snort to even myself out.
First I asked the hotel manager and he provided me with very low quality shit.
So I walked around town I somehow went to the shanty town outskirts and looked for H...small children swarmed me...i felt their lil hands in my pockets looking for $...my 200$ raybans I bought 3 days earlier left my pants..I was wondering what was happening to my mind...a large indigenous woman wrapping foil packets of something in a stall pulled me into some no go zone and the beggars and kids melted away..I zonked out..then regained conscience at night I went to the public square I met an American that had his arms all bandaged up to his shoulders from a knife attack...he got me 3 blows that I snorted immediately...I felt the same euphoria that Chicago dope gives me...and i was upset I couldn't buy a ounce on the spot...publito square is a huge open area full of bars, sex shops, artists, whures... 2 of the youngest most beautiful women I've ever seen spoke to me in perfect American English and said I could have them both for 300$ i had a mental image of me holding the 1 girl up with my right arm while jump fucking her while her friend threw cocaine and cookie dough at my face...but I politely declined the offer. Soon I couldn't even talk I was so zonked....i collapsed to my knees and puked into a sewer grate in front 400 indifferent people...dont remember how I got back to my suite. I checked my hiding spot...my 15k was there thank god. The combination of blow booze and benzos was inducing blackouts and panic attacks my last 2 days. I started thinking that I was at my wits end...i couldn't think of any thing I desired...what am I doing here? I broke into a sobbing blubbering mess...maybe I should throw myself out of my 20 story window and escape this nightmare. I quickly packed my shit and went to the airport. It was time to go. I remember as I walked up to the counter at meddellin air port the 1st thing a dude asked me was if I was smuggling cocain....i think I grunted and shook my head no. I was in a bad way... Almost thrown out of the airport because I was scaring the shit out of everyone..a really sweet woman changed some pesos to American cheese for me I saw a picture of her kids and tried to tip her a lot of cash she politely refused...my panic attacks made me cry like some 6.2' 265lbs baby...trying to give my gold ring and cash to random people..a tall American security agent in a suit asked me if "are you ok? Your frightening everyone in the airport...
Are you even capable of taking this flight in your state?" I made up a story about a relationship problem to duck him. I
Acted badly on the plane, snorted my last gram in front of a nice couple...the wife got up and changed seats..I offered the dude 100$ for the trouble is was refused...ended up in miami...
Kept telling the Haitian cabbies to take me to the worst part of town...they would not. Got thrown out of a really swanky club within 2min trying to buy drugs of any kind from random people. Got a suite at some nice hotel hit on the desk girl like a total scumbag handing out 100$ bills for my behavior.
Made a complete fool of myself. Got a crazy arab limo driver from ohare and I was so gone on 60mg of valium and blow i starting babbling again...blubbering about nonsense....he pulled out huge bottles of pills offered me benzos and opiates...I thanked him but declined. I must be putting some insane energy out there....i mean I was wide open to get beaten or killed and I never got the shank to chest that I deserved. I think I wanted to be called out on some level...to be beaten to a pulp and thrown into a heap of human detritus...for the mockery I've made of my life, my indifference and yet desperation to hold onto something important. No one seems is up to the task of destroying my human form except me.
I don't feel bad about it...I just need to lay off the benzos and be a better friend to myself. Wherever you go there you are...ain't that the goddamn truth.