Episode 2 : Nemesis

If you listen to popular culture these days, you’d think a vampire’s worst enemies are outlandish things. Vampire hunters. Werewolves. Silver bullets. Well, maybe those things pose real problems for vampires in their prime, but for your average three hundred fifty year old vampire, they’re about as common as cannibals are in Podunk, Iowa. No, we have much different problems. Much more sinister problems.

Like trying to schedule service appointments.

I had already been on hold for at least thirty minutes, which meant I had listened to the “your call is important to us” message about sixty times. With each repetition, I could swear the voice was getting more and more sarcastic.

“Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line, and a representative will be with you shortly.”

“Your call is ‘important’ to us. Please stay on the line, and a representative will be with you ‘shortly.’”

By the time the representative came on, I was well and truly ticked off.

“Thank you for holding, my name is Jason. How may I help you?”

“How can you help me? What do you think? My television is broken. You can fix it. Why else would I be calling you?”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. What seems to be the problem with it?”

“It won’t turn on.”

“Is it plugged in?”

“I can operate a telephone, can’t I? I think I know when a television is plugged in.”

“I apologize, sir. I just wanted to clear up a few of the common mistakes before sending a representative to your house.”

“Yeah, well I cleared those up already. It’s broken.”

“Are there batteries in the remote?”

“I swear, if I hear another stupid question from you, I’m going to hunt you down and--”

“Please, sir. I apologize. I’m just trying to do my job. When would you like to schedule an appointment?”

“Whenever you have time. But I’m only home evenings. Late evenings.”

“How late?”

“After sunset.”

There was a pause. “Sir, the sun doesn’t set right now until after eight.”

“And?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, our servicemen keep regular hours. Nine to five.”

“What is it with you people and regular hours? You’re on the phone now, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but--”

“Then why don’t you come fix my television? How about tomorrow?”

“I’m not qualified to--”

“Then why are you answering the phones?”

“Perhaps you’d like to talk to my manger.”

“Damn right I do.”

And again with the hold music, if you could even call it that. Real music had died with the birth of Stravinsky. What would Beethoven have said if he heard the Backstreet Boys? Probably something along the lines of “I can hear again! Amazing!” Except in German, of course. “Ich kann wieder hoeren! Das ist nicht zu glauben!” German’s a language that’s big on extra syllables. And spitting.

“Hello, this is Fred. How can I help you?”

“Fred, it’s about time you came on. What sort of idiots--”

He sighed. “Victor, what have I told you?”

“Don’t you take that tone of voice with me, young man. Who pays your bills?”

“Sorry, Victor. We’re not getting into this today. If you want, I can send someone out to you tomorrow between nine and five. Regular operating hours, no exceptions.”

“I’ll pay extra.”

“Corporate won’t allow it. We tried that with you before.”

“But my television--”

“Is it plugged in?”

“I can operate a telephone, can’t I? I think I--”

“Are there batteries in the remote?”

“What is it with you people and batteries? I already --”

“Don’t play games, Victor. I have your repair records memorized. Three times we sent people out to your house--after hours--to find they just had to plug in your set. Twice it was due to batteries. We’re not doing it again.”

“But what am I supposed to do? It won’t turn on.”

“Try asking a neighbor for help. I don’t get paid to give you someone to talk to whenever you feel lonely. Goodbye, Victor.”

And the line went dead. Can you believe it? In my prime, I would have been at Fred’s neck in about two seconds. And I didn’t feel lonely. Who did he think he was? Freud? I sighed, sat back in my chair and put the phone down. Maybe I should go back to sleep in the coffin for a while longer. Or I could get up and plug the TV back in.

Eternal life’s no good once you’re stuck in the middle of it.

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