When the Last Vampire Dies
Cultural diversity may be taking on a whole new meaning
A few months ago I visited Ft. Lauderdale.
I went there for several reasons — a different environment, a little relaxation, and undistracted time to catch up on a couple writing projects.
At least, that’s what I told my friends. In truth, I’m pretty sure I went looking for a cathartic epiphany.
What I found was a liquor store.
It was one of those unremarkable storefronts tucked between a T-shirt shop and pizza joint.
Not exactly the kind of place I would normally frequent, but it was a block from my hotel and the desk clerk told me they carried a decent brand of Merlot.
Inside, I met a friendly clerk named Marvin, who greeted everyone as they entered and wished them a “good day” as they left. Turns out he was an ex-priest, moonlighting to make a few extra dollars because his day job — painting houses — was slow.
Marvin asked if he could help me find something.
At first, my thoughts went to the metaphysical — perhaps he could offer a little insight on the meaning of life, or at least confirm the Mayan’s predictions…
