for him recently, and seeing as how my blog wasn’t the only thing that could use some straightening up, he started offering to fix my real walls in addition to my firewalls. So I’ve had him do a few minor repairs and spruce-ups around the house, things I’m either too busy, too lazy, or too lacking in skill to take care of myself. Like refinishing the hallway he sort of ruined with his Spidey Climbing, and the living room wall I pushed him into… the one that now bears the impression of his profile. And his gut. I figure it’s easier to get it all taken care of now, before it starts blending in and just becomes part of the décor. I help him out with stuff as much as I can, if for no reason other than to pull my weight and to not feel like a total slack. It also gives me something relatively humdrum to think about instead of dwelling on the battle scarring that’s built up on my increasingly unrealistic life. As it turns out, Bo is quite an awesome handyman. And I am really good at passing him tools.
And beer.
We chat a little, too, about more than just drywall and spackle. “Do you like being a vampire?” he asked me one day.
“You hacked the blog, Bo. Didn’t you read it?”
I think I embarrassed him. “Nah… reading’s not really my thing.
“Then, nope – I don’t like being a vampire. The super strength thing is pretty bomb, and I get a lot more TV time in not being able to sleep as much as I used to. But everything else sucks.” If I could have said it like that from the beginning, I’d have saved myself a shitload of blogging by now.
Bo liked the strength thing, too. “Yeah… if I was strong like you, I’d be picking up heavy stuff all the time just to show off.”
“You’re pretty strong without being a vampire, Bo.”
“Not like you, though… you’re like WWE strong.” Okay. If you say so. “I’d totally want you having my back in a bar fight.”
I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before. There’s never really been a reason to. Still, I was sort of touched. “If that were ever to happen, I would do my best.”
Once the topic had been broached, he was none too shy about asking everything. “What about biting people? That’s pretty nasty, isn’t it? I can’t even stand the taste of blood when I bite my own lip.”
“Don’t know. I’ve never bitten anyone… and if I have anything to say about it, I never will.” I told him about the meat thing. He looked like he wanted to puke.
“That’s nasty, Joe.”
“Yes it is, Bo. Yes it is.”
“And if no one ever sticks you in the heart with a stake – sorry again for trying to pull that shit on you, by the way – then you’ll live forever, huh?”
I thought of Don – or rather, of his headless, tattooed corpse – lying in a field, and on a slab in the morgue. Pretty extreme, but no stake required for that slaying. Easier just to not say anything about it. “Could be.”
During these talks I’m like the Louise, the one with all the answers, and Bo is like me, with one question after another. It’s all good, though… sort of helps me keep things clear in my own head, and to reinforce what I hope I’ve learned from her. And I think Bo likes having someone to talk to, even if it’s all about vampires. I think I like it, too.
Don’t get me wrong; he’s no Hube.
But it’s nice to have a dude friend to hang out with, even if we have nothing in common.
Other than the property damage we caused together, of course.
The questions have gotten more personal as of late. “How’s your old lady feel about you being all fangy like you are? That’s gotta hurt when you take the action downtown… ”
I laughed so hard when he asked me that, Bud shot out of my nose. “I don’t have an old lady, so I’ve never gotten to try the downtown action with the fangs.” I really hoped by “old lady” he meant girlfriend, and not mother.
Either way, the answer would be “no”.
“Get out! You don’t have an old lady?” That’s it, Bo… just rub it in.
“Not at the moment.” Not in many moments, actually.
“We need to find you some sweet lady love, Joe Vampire! Super-strong stud