At the bar last night I recieved a note that was stuck into my pocket. This morning, stumbling around, still half asleep, I happened across it. It goes:

Hey! We met at the bar the other night. I was the vampire. You were the sailor. If you want to go out sometime give me a call. 773-967-****.

That just seems exceptionally sureal to me. To paraphrase the great poem, "A vampire and a sailor can fall in love, but where will they make their home?" Too true. I have no plans to call the vampire.