Joe Vampire - By Steven Luna Page 0,2

Dwayne – or Lazer, as he christened himself using his Rock Star Name decoder ring – who tends to shit everything up during our creative process. I try to tip the scales in mine and Hube’s favor by designating my basement as our rehearsal space, and by having a van big enough to haul our set-up to gigs. I also print all our flyers, make our snacks and keep track of everyone’s leather pants because I live closest to the dry cleaners. I also set up our rigs before and clean everything up after our shows, so either I really love the idea of being part of a middling music group, or I’ve let myself become the band bitch…

Where was I going with this?

Anyway, it was my version of a decent life, if uneventful and not particularly noteworthy. I was happy with it, at least. Maybe a little less so since the current womanless phase began, but you can’t be into someone else all the time, right?

Sometimes, it's enough just to be into porn.

I'll admit that from the outside I might've looked a little like a shut-in. I might've looked like that from the inside, too, come to think of it. But what is a shut-in if not a person who truly appreciates the comforts of home in a way that eludes the general populace? I appreciated the shit out of those comforts, things like twenty-four hour sweatpants, spontaneous napping and the narcotic effects of cream-filled snack foods and soft drinks. Just because my style of interaction with others has become slightly more removed than most would think is healthy, does that diminish my ability to interact face-to-face without making a total ass of myself? No.

Not mostly, anyway.

I’d probably know better if I actually interacted with people face-to-face on a more regular basis.

At this point, with my romantic history I’m way more comfortable getting to know people from a distance. I don’t think that necessarily makes me antisocial. And who really cares if I let my gym membership lapse because it was easier to sit on the couch streaming all eight seasons of Full House than it was to schlep three blocks just so I could walk to nowhere on a freaking treadmill? Without a sense of history for where the Olsen twins began, one can never truly appreciate how far those brilliant little style moguls have come. And what difference does it make that I’ve turned down every happy hour invitation, every guys night opportunity, every blind date set-up arranged by my many well-meaning co-workers to stay home by myself instead?

I’m not really making a strong case here, am I?

That’s fine. I’m not an idiot; I’ve watched Dr. Phil. I know it’s completely possible to be alone without being lonely… though judging by what I’ve just written it seems far less possible to be alone without seeming like a borderline sociopath. But you can definitely give lonely a solid kick in the balls. Having the Tanner family in your TV for moral support doesn’t hurt. And, as I have discovered over these past few months, there can be more than one definition of alone. It all depends on how willing you are to delude yourself about the level of loserhood you don’t believe you’ve descended to. For instance, it’s much different to be alone because you’ve had a bad run of luck with women who’ve turned out to be lying, psychotic whores than it is to be alone because you’ve been turned into a bloodsucking freak.

It’s all a matter of self-delusion.

To illustrate further: one kind of alone is self-imposed, a sort of refuge you create out of fear that your presence among others will only cause repulsion and heartache. Even in the most casual of social situations, people can sense the changes you’ve gone through no matter how much you work to cover them up. Some will be kind enough to put up a brave front for you, going out of their way in an attempt to sympathize with your condition. But you know they’re just pretending they aren’t thoroughly terrified of you. You know it isn’t how you chose to be; it’s just something that happened, something beyond your control and now you’re stuck with it, unsettling though it is for you or anyone in your vicinity. But it doesn’t matter how you rationalize it – you’re not who you used to be; they know it, and you know it. And so, you keep your distance to spare