This interview was regrettably not included for publication at an acclaimed news outlet, but permission was granted to post it at ¡BEBOP LIBRE! — provided any and all references to the columnist involved were omitted. This is a completely ordinary thing that happens often. You shouldn’t be worried about it.
INTERVIEWER: Vampires don’t normally come to the beach during the day. What’s your name?
ME: My name’s Reese. I can understand how you’d mistake me for a vampire, but I’m just near-sighted, I hate sand, and water? Not for me. I don’t drink it. In fact, my least favorite thing is having water on me. Worst of all is stepping in something wet with my socks, because then incandescent plumes of vapor radiate from my skin and I start convulsing. Naturally, I’ve worn socks, snugly in my sneakers, to this very beach.
INTERVIEWER: I did notice that you’re wearing clothes at the beach, but you’re in Europe. Are you stupid, or a vampire?
ME: I don’t have all the answers. Being honest, I’m not a fan of the source of our existence. I’m not talking about Voidlord Phasñorfd’ayampüj’ak Mir’nakëtto-Hǒktong-Tel’nox Thousand-Membranes, I’m talking about the Sun. After only a few hours of knowing me, my Spanish teacher once alluded that my lack of skin pigmentation was medically anomalous. To imply that someone is a vampire is considered rude in America. You can’t just assume that I drink blood because I’m pale.
INTERVIEWER: Do you?
ME: Look, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Why can’t we discuss something else?
INTERVIEWER: Okay. What is that you’re reading?
ME: This is a collection of short stories called Exhalation: Stories by Ted Chiang. Each one is a cautionary tale about speculative technology. These have given me much to think about… so many app ideas! I’ve been listening to Einstein at the Beach by Philip Glass too, while reading, which is helping the creative blood — er, I meant to say juices — flow.
INTERVIEWER: So you’re a digital nomad?
ME: That’s not accurate. I plan to stay in Spain until they kick me out, but I do consider myself part of the Liminal Monad.
INTERVIEWER: Hm. Haven’t heard of that before. Well, you don’t seem to be of retirement age. Here’s more European directness for you in the form of a question: how old are — MADRE MÍA, ¿QUÉ TE PASA?
ME: [wiping blood from mouth] What? ¿Qué?
INTERVIEWER: MADRE MÍA MADRE MÍA MADRE MÍA MADRE MÍA.
ME: [tossing desiccated corpse of a seagull into the Atlantic] Whoa, you don’t have to leave.
INTERVIEWER: [hyperventilating] You-you-you-uh-just…
ME: Lo siento. Disculpa, mis disculpas, but it’s customary in America to drain seagulls of their blood. Please respect my culture.
INTERVIEWER: I will try to be culturally sensitive. What attracted you to this beach in particular?
ME: Well, I came here on the weekend of the Assumption of Mary because I knew there would be garbage everywhere. Completely intentional on my part, I assure you. The seagulls don’t fight back as much when their legs are bound by plastic wrap. I’m vigilant about throwing it away in the bins when I’m done with them.
INTERVIEWER: How thoughtful of you.
ME: Nada, no es nada.
INTERVIEWER: Well, it was a pleasure speaking with you, but there’s a concert that I’d like to —
ME: Leaving so soon? We were just getting started, weren’t we?
♫ VAMOS A LA PLAYA ♫
That’s Spanish for “let’s go to the beach,” as sung by the two normal Italian guys below. You’re highly discouraged from visiting beaches in Europe unless you can sing along to this ballad. Don’t worry, you must only remember the “VAMOS A LA PLAYA OH-OHHOOHHO” part, repeated a mere 114 times throughout the song.
I think this is song is even "better"... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fpmiQ7e2QCE pom, pom, pom.
if you're really a vampire, how come you didn't dry up in the sun? do you have some sort of special powers?