"My heart has been torn asunder and I am forced to confront the truth that my manga-haired, love monkey is a douche nozzle who has sullied my innocence and whatnot and cast me aside like an unmatched glove." This came from the Amy's lips even before I could ask the question.
"Drama much?" I asked.
She called me a name that the contract with my ISP prohibits me from repeating here. Then she seemed to grow calmer and said, "It's the only way I have of describing my angst and dark inspirations."
"It's not a vampire thing," I said. "It sounds more like a Goth thing."
"If you weren't about the only person I know who offers hope to the hopeless I'd drain you to dust and sweep you into the cat litter box. Does that sound vampire enough for you?"
"Alright," I said. "I get it. So what has happened between you and Foo Dog."
"He's dumped me," she said, "and all because my vampire passions compelled me to frisk with another man."
"Well, there you go," I said. "You can't expect otherwise."
"Don't you read vampire lit?" she said. "A vamp's love minion is d-e-v-o-t-e-d, hello. They understand as no one else understands that the dark powers cause us to be total romance sluts. When a man says something romantic, we're like, 'Please, sir, let me turn down my IQ and offer you this moist, supple body that seems to have lost its way.' I had not choice in the matter given what he said."
"Which was?"
"He said that all he wanted to do was save the woman he loves and that, as far as he's concerned, that's the same thing as saving the whole world."
"And that did it for you?" I said.
"It's Valentine's Day. I would have done him on a bed of carpet tacks."
I mused this over, turning it this way and that before speaking. "You know, Amy, I don't think this is an apocalyptic event. I think that given time Foo will forgive you and the two of you will renew business at the old stand."
"It's more complicated than that. The romance agent was Kyle, you know Kyle, he's the property of the Countess."
"Oh now I see. This does get tricky. You're suppposed to be the backup Countess, aka Mistress of the Greater SoDu Night, and now you've made a move on her man. Yes, this could be complicated. Wheels within wheels no doubt. Yes, probably wheels within wheels."
"Something like that," she said, "and now she's on her way over here to talk to me and I'm totally puckered about it."
"You have confrontation issues?"
"Me? I'm insincere. I just wear the mask because when you roll up all wild in somebody's face like a mad woman, hair on fire and all guns blazing, no one's going to mention that your roots are showing."
"Insincere?"
"Did I say insincere? I meant insecure."
"Well, I don't see that you need to worry. You only need to face her with a calm mind and you will be ready for anything."
"That's what I've heard you say but, damn it, it's not so easy."
"Oh, it's simple really. All you need to do is move slowly and think of nothing but your breath."
"You mean like slo-mo?"
"Exactly. Just move slowly and think of your breath. Give it a try now is my suggestion."
"You don't need to think about breathing," she said. "It's automatic."
"It's autonomic," I said, "and when I said think about breathing, I meant pay attention to your breathing."
She began to move as though suspended in molasses, turning this way and that, reaching for cups and things on the counter.
"This is going to calm my mind?" she said.
"Don't talk," I said. "Move you hands around and focus your eyes on your hands. That's it. Keep it up for a couple of minutes."
At that moment, the front door opened and a young woman walked into the cafe. A young, lisom woman with a vivid shade of red hair, emerald eyes, and a walk that reminded me of a burlap sack full of wild cats. It was the Countess. I turned to look at Amy who had her back to the door and was at the moment refilling the cream pitcher in one-quarter time.
"Amy," I said. She turned and saw the Countess at the exact moment that everyone else in the shop saw the Countess. I don't know if you've ever had the experience of being in the presence of, well, of just being in the presence. It may be the same if you happen to be with the President or the Pope or the Buddha. That's the way it was in Native Grounds at that moment. Everyone was in the presence of the Countess. I remember thinking that here was a woman who had practiced making an entrance.