Stop Staring

“Is that a…?!”

“What?  Is that a what?”

“Is it… you know…  One of, those…?”

“She has a name, you jerk.  It’s Shandra.  Or at least that’s what it is this month.”

“Right, right, but…  I mean, look!”

“It’s rude to stare at people, kid.”

“Do you not see what you have in your living room right this minute?!”

“I have a twenty-one-year-old girl who’s been in college for two and a half years but still technically a freshman, wearing less clothes than I am, but hey, she pays the rent on time, she’s allowed, and let me tell you she is damn good at dealing with people who keep staring at her like that.  She might start charging ya’, though.”

“You…  Okay, okay, come over here for a second.  Do you, like…  Do you know anything about, like, fantasy monsters and stuff?”

“I dunno, I suppose?”

“So, okay, have you ever heard of a succubus?”




“What’d I do?”

“Don’t you bring your damn wetdream fantasies into my house, boy.”

“I am trying to tell you that you have a succubus, in your house!”

“Maybe you want to tell her that, then?  Since that who you’re obviously interested in.”

“Are you crazy, I’m not going to talk to her, she’ll…!”

“Then why the hell’d’ya bring it up?”

“Don’t you understand what this means?!  This changes, like, everything we know about everything!  These sorts of… things, aren’t supposed to exist!”

“…Are you high or something?”

“For the love of…!  How can you possibly be so dense?!”

“Look, kid, I only know like half of what it is you’re trying to say, but I don’t judge.  I don’t go into a room and say ‘Omaigosh, a black dude!’ or ‘Holyshit, a girl!’, I just see people.  This is the twenty-first century; thought racism and shit like that was s’pposed to be dead.”

“Oh come on, you’re comparing that to this?!  This is on a totally different level!”

“Not to me.  I’m gonna humor you for, like, three minutes here.  Say she is a succubus.  What, are they supposed to live in a cave or a coffin or some cardboard box in some alley?  If she wants to pay rent and live in a house like normal people, I ain’t gonna stop her.  What she does outside the house, hey, that’s her business, as long as she doesn’t bring it back here.  Maybe she wants to just keep a low profile and chill, ever think about that?  Maybe the kind of landlord she needs is the kind who ain’t gonna judge every little bitty thing, ever think about that?  Effing grow up and look past what people look like, kid.”

“You… I… but, you can’t…  Auuugh, I’m so…!  You’re such an idiot!”

“I’m not the one freaking out here; you are.”

“Don’t you understand how dangerous it is to have one of those living next to you?!”

“Those are vampires, kid, not succubuses.  See, you’re all up in this fake shit and you don’t even know your fake facts.”

“It doesn’t matter!  Someone’s gonna find out and it’ll all blow up in your face!”

“Who?  You?  Are you going to go to a scientist and tell them I have a succubus in my house?  The cops?  The press?”

“Don’t you read any books, lady; that never works.  But, there’s always someone…  You can’t just, live like, like this!”

“I was living pretty fine up until ten minutes ago when you knocked on my door.  Speaking of which, no, I don’t want to sign your damn petition, and I’d like it if you kindly got off my porch now.”

“…Just, never mind.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Did you hear that shit?”

“Judas, girl, I know, right?”

“So plugged into this gothic crap they’re seeing it everywhere.  Are you planning on getting dressed today, by the way?”

“Hem?  Oh, depends if I’m going out or not.”

“Kay, well, maybe think about grabbing a blanket from the couch or something when we get someone at the door; I’m getting sick of these awkward conversations.”

“Hoooo, I thought you said you didn’t judge, mmm?”

“I don’t.  They do.”


“If you’re going to go out try not to, like, hump anyone to death or whatever it is you’re supposed to do, because you’re a succubus now.”

“Don’t worry.  I won’t.  Not my style.”


{But the question is:  IS she really a succubus?!  GASP!}

{I enjoy treating fantasy in a realistic way.  Sure, succubae would likely be hookers of some kind if they existed, but what do they do during the day?  Nobody ever cares about succubae when they’re off the clock and not hungry.  Maybe someone should.  Maybe that someone is me.}

{It’s probably not.}


One thought on “Stop Staring

  1. Pingback: A Skeptical Stare | Living in a Lowenly World

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