I took a trip to see the vampires last week. They can be found at the end of a system of long corridors with magnolia walls. They have quite an obsession with cleanliness; before meeting with them I am required to wash my hands with alcohol gel. No names in this place, just numbers. It's like the cheese counter at Tesco. I pass the time until they call for me in a waiting room that seems to be stuck in the 1970s. The feeling that some sort of time warp is in place is made all the greater by the existence of a fish tank that looks like as though it was last cleaned when John Travolta was strutting his funky stuff on the disco dancefloor.
My number's up. A bored looking vampire beckons me into the blood-sucking room. Bored is good. It means she isn't new. Last time I had a newbie. I know that my veins are sometimes difficult to find but I felt like a pin cushion by the time she was through. Ms. Bored Vampire is now scanning my form. Date of birth confirmed and she's wasted no time in grabbing my left arm. "Er...excuse me oh blood-sucking one" says I, "could you possibly use the other one? There's often a bit of trouble with getting a vein in that one." She mutters something incomprehensible and takes the other arm. I don't think she believed me. Seriously lady, I have a thyroid disorder. I've been here once every 3 months for years. I'm an old pro at this blood taking malarkey. Never mind, she's tightened the cuff now and is ready to pounce. Best to look away at this point I've found.
A minute later and she's done. Fangs out, cotton wool on and I'm walking out the door. I'm passing the 70's waiting room, the pale faced victims and the magnolia walls. Then suddenly - light! The sun shines down upon me. I have survived once more. Blade's got nothing on me!