Interview With a Jewish Vampire Read Online Free PDF

with it instead of interrogating it.”
    “ You would have done the same thing. I tell you he mesmerized me. I totally forgot what I do for a living.”
    “ I guess he put his vampire mojo on you, you lucky girl.”
    “ I don’t think it’s lucky to be in love with a vampire. The potential complications boggle the mind, starting with, well, me getting old and him staying the same.”
    “ Love? Are you in love?”
    “ Charlene, I told you to throw me in a cold shower the next time I told you I’ve never felt this way before. But I’ve never felt this way before. Just thinking about him makes me feel…well…all warm and fuzzy and secure. Like I can trust him. ”
    “ Well, here you are on JDate for years and if the only guy you can trust turns out to be a vampire maybe it’s time to look elsewhere.”
    “ I don’t want to look anywhere. I just want to see him again.”
    “ You will, you will. Guys who send flowers always call. It’s a dating rule.”

Chapter Four
     
     
    Sure enough, Sheldon did call, the next day, with theatre tickets for that night. He’d gotten us orchestra seats for the revival of Fiddler on the Roof with Alfred Molina. It had gotten great reviews and six Tony nominations. He offered to take me to dinner before the show.
    “ Won’t that make you uncomfortable, Shel? What are you going to eat?”
    “ You, with my eyes, darling,” he said, sounding like a bad imitation of a romantic hero in a 1930s movie.
    “ You have been watching too many old movies. I’m serious. What will you eat?”
    “ I can drink a little wine. I like to watch humans eat. I get a vicarious thrill, remembering what it used to feel like.”
    “ What’s your favorite vicarious food?”
    “ Jewish deli, of course. How about eating at the Carnegie?”
    “ Where they charge fifteen bucks for a pastrami sandwich? It’s a rip-off?”
    “ I like to go by and smell the pastrami fumes. It will be fun to watch you eat.”
    I didn’t have the best memories of the Carnegie Deli. The last time I was there I was supposed to interview Henny Youngman over lunch. Henny is the Borscht Belt comic who came up with the line “take my wife please.” It wound up being the most humiliating experience I’d ever had as a journalist. Henny totally ignored me, refused to answer questions, wouldn’t look my way, and spent the hour waving at celebrities who came by. At least I thought they were celebrities. I was sure he was ignoring me because I wasn’t glamorous. If I’d been some cute, blonde, curvy TV anchor type in a miniskirt and heels, instead of a shlumpy, overweight working writer wearing jeans, maybe he would have treated me differently. Or maybe he’d have treated me worse. I could see him being crude and lewd with attractive women. I suffered through the lunch and wound up using a handout he gave me of his jokes for the story. I hoped someone had taken his wife—someone a lot nicer than him. I refused to let this memory ruin my dinner with Sheldon. Or ruin the pastrami sandwich I was looking forward to. Tonight I was the cute, curvy blonde – to Sheldon anyway.
    The Carnegie Deli is on 55th and Broadway, a corner with wide sidewalks, which was lucky because there was such a crowd waiting to get in. I was shocked by the length of the line outside on a weekday night. Everyone looked like they’d just arrived from Des Moines—they had that Midwest goyishe look. It seemed the Carnegie Deli had become a big tourist attraction since the last time I’d been here. It was once a smaller place with about twenty long tables where strangers all sat together. Now it had eaten up half the block. I saw Sheldon in the back of the line and sidled up to him.
    “ Been here long, Mister?”
    “ A few minutes,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”
    “ Sheldon, there’s a line.”
    “ Not for us there isn’t.”
    He marched me right up to the front of the line, gave the hostile-looking waiter guarding the entrance a penetrating