I went to Loyola University in New Orleans. So, yea, I partied. Lots. Even the university got into a fight with me over my drinking… but that’s a different story, (I fought back and won). This story takes place on a hot muggy August night in New Orleans at a college bar in the Garden District. A college dive bar on Fraternity Row (no Sorority houses in New Orleans allowed…. Because if more than 3 women lived in a house together it was considered a brothel- can’t make this stuff up). Anyways, the bar would serve anyone and the cheap drinks were… To this day I’ve never ever found more delicious shots. I’m a fruity shot girl forever. Me and my 3 girlfriends decided to go to the bar early because, New Orleans. The city had a strange way of making you want to get wuasted. Even if you promised yourself no more Goldschläger, (I know, I can’t even), by the time dusk rolled around a party time atmosphere was just engulfing the very air you breathed. We showed up to the bar feeling like lushes at 4pm. I had my ferret, Disco Biscuit, with me, in my little ferret carrying bag. The bouncers at this bar adored him and I would get the night off from being a ferret mom. So, it’s 4pm. It’s us and some random people. One guy caches my eye immediately – I observe him for about 30 minutes from our table. He’s standing with his back to us, leaning against the bar. His clothes literally looked like he crawled out of the ground. Covered in dirt, caked in dirt. Dirt, not mud. Dusty dirt. Second observation: he was wearing pajamas and a trench coat. In August. In New Orleans. With really, beautiful and old looking leather boots. My mind feels immediately funny, something is making my brain say “Danger!!” I notice he has a cup of water. I realize he’s been there awhile, not talking to anyone, I notice his hair though… the most beautiful silky, brown, long, delicious looking hazelnut hair.. I think that’s when my mind went “warning”, his clothes were caked in fresh dirt, but his hair looked like he’d had it blow dried. As my mind is comprehending all of this he turns around and looks straight into my eyes. Just thinking about it now as I write I get heart flutters, because never before or afterwards have I ever seen such beautiful eyes. Lighter blue than eyes humanly can be, like crystal waterfalls that went deeper than human eyes- just crystal fountains. I didn’t feel attraction though. My heart felt TERROR. That wasn’t human. As soon as my mind knew that, he knew that I knew and looked at me a certain way that made my blood run cold. I told my friends and they laughed at me until he turned and looked at us all and they all kind of shrieked a little. The next thing we did didn’t really help the situation, as we went outside to get high with some self -proclaimed Irish Channel Mafia family nephew. Anyways as soon as we got high the Vampire seemed 1000% more scary, but our curiosity was piqued. So, we went back in, and sat down at our table. He starts circling the bar, slowly… watching us, just staring at us. I totally feel he knows we said he was a Vampire and now he must kill us. He just keeps walking around the bar, slowing down and aggressively staring at us. At this point we’re getting drunk, and the drunker I get the madder I get at being scared. I decided to confront him, much to my friends’ chagrin. I got up and started walking towards him. Note that at this point this man in dirty pajamas, a trench coat and the most beautiful eyes and hair on earth, had been standing in a college bar holding a cup of water, not talking to one person now for 4 hours. So most definitely something was amiss… My friends who had more sense than me, also were convinced he was preternatural. So I’m going to get to the bottom of it, confront him, and demand answers. Then he walks out the door and I follow, I see him take a right and I’m about 15 feet behind him… and then he’s gone? He’s gone. I look down the street in the direction I thought he was walking and I spot him. About 100 yards away? Wait, how did he get there so fast? I can still see him as he walks into a yard and ducks behind a huge Oak tree. I start running because well, because I’m wasted and I have no sense of decorum or dignity and I was about to maybe meet a real vampire! Or maybe die. All exciting. My friends are running after me, yelling at me to stop. I finally get close to where I saw him go behind that Oak and… well I’m sure you can guess. Into thin air. Writing this at night, everyone asleep, the wind whipping the house I get chills recalling his eyes. Living in New Orleans, every day I encountered “vampires” with fake fangs and wool cloaks, but never again did I ever see this actual Vampire. I knew what he was at first glance. He knew that I knew as soon as I knew… New Orleans is a powerful Vortex, so many unexplainable things happened there. I will try to write one a week. Laissez les bon temps rouler, ya’ll!