Panhandling with Panache

Decided I needed to take a break from writing the short story I've been trying to work on all summer. Okay, I was also probably reading H/D fics, but hey, think "research". And it's all Autumn's fault for introducing me to this... this... ADDICTION.

Anyway, off to the drugstore. Pathetic, no? A break to go to the drugstore rather than someplace more, I don't know, spine tingling.

Daydream....

Me walking down the street and meeting up with a vampire (who looks suspiciously like an ADULT, hot, Draco, thank you very much).

Vampire Draco: Excuse me, can I ask you a question?
Me: You already have. (What a tired, stupid retort that always is)!

VD: Yes, well, I thought that since I'm new here that you might show me around.
Me: Hmmmm.

VD: Yes, also I find myself drawn to you and I have lots of money, a great loft in
New York City, a townhouse in London, and I would very much like to spend all
of my time with you forever (and for a vampire that's a bloody long time) and
I would love to have a bit of a snog right now if you don't mind. (Wow, I
think, what great manners).

Me: Well, the thing is that I'm going to the drugstore.
VD: What??? You'd rather go to the drugstore?

Me: Well, you see, that's where I was headed.

VD: CAN'T YOU CHANGE YOUR PLANS?

Me: You would think, huh.

End of daydream. Noooooooo. I want to change my plans, I want to change my plans (this while tapping my red shoes together).

Instead that is what really happened. No lie. I am walking to the bloody drugstore and two men are seated on a bench outside the store. In their forties, I'm guessing. One black, one white. The black man yells HELLO to me. I stop. "Hello," I answer not yelling.

Black man pointing to the white man: This man I have adopted as my father.
Me: Have you now?

BM: Yes, he is family.

Me: ---

BM: You are beautiful and exotic (???) and you are not from here..

Me: Yes. Yes, I am from here.

BM: Oh, I know you were born here, but I mean a very long time ago. You come from a line of royalty.

Me (thinking about how often my mother has called me a royal pain): Well, yeah.
BM: Yes, anyway, you are family, too. You are my sister.

Me: So that makes him my father?

BM: Uh-huh.

ME: ---

BM: I don't need anything for myself, but Dad is hungry. And you look like you
are very, very, sweet and kind (and exotic?) And, of course, You ARE my sister.

ME: What kind of food do you want to eat?

White Man (thinking very hard): Breakfast.

Okay, I know, I know. These two dudes are trying to get money from me. But they are not shaking a paper cup in my face, which I despise. Give them points for creativity and some more points for amusement factor. Yeah, I know, I amuse easily. So, I think, what the hell.

ME: Okay. Here's some money. Go get breakfast.

BM: Thanks, sis.

Dad merely nods at me.

I walk into the drugstore and when I leave 15 mins. later, they are still seated on the bench, talking to someone else. Hey, I think to myself, I always wanted to be part of a large family. I'm also thinking, now where in hell did Vampire Draco get off to?

So I receive a note from someone who has read the above and it runs like this: You’ve officially become the dread demographic – the creepy American woman who is wont to British affectation (think ex-girlfriend), while lacking the necessary genes, accent, and, on the whole upbringing (think ex-girlfriend). You bring shame to your family; it is a pleasure to see you have found a new one, for I fear the old one will abandon you momentarily.

This came from my SON! When you get down to it, how sharper than a serpent's tooth...

What the git doesn't know is that I really am a creepy British woman who is wont to American affectation.