Day Five, and Fuck Rob Ford

Well today was an interesting day for all kinds of reasons, least of which was my novel. In spite of all of the excitement and the frequent trips to the break room to see if the press conference had started, I managed to get up to 11,000 words. Things are getting pretty serious in my novel, as Juliet has revealed that she has been threatened by people who want the cronut recipe. Here is a lighter moment:

Chloe really might have known that things would soon get out of hand, but how could she when everything seemed so perfect? Juliet’s Bookstore and Bakery was the “it” bakery in Toronto, and anyone who worked there was basically a celebrity. Louise, the short and curly-haired pastry chef who was the first person that Juliet had hired, described it as “Bakerymania,” in what she perceived to be a clever play on “Beatlemania.” No one really agreed that it was particularly clever, but it didn’t stop her from continually making the joke anyway. Carey, the hipster cupcake decorator who had such a colourful pantsuit collection that it could rival Hillary Clinton’s, was featured in a fashion spread in the Toronto Star, when they finally acknowledged that they would need to do something other than brag about how it had been their investigative journalism that had uncovered the Mayor Rob Ford crack scandal. So when Chloe was called for an interview with a Toronto magazine, she wasn’t as suspicious as she might have been otherwise. Perhaps the fact that the man on the line said that it was “a Toronto magazine” might have tipped her off, but that’s neither here nor there. She might have known that something wasn’t right when she was asked to meet this reporter, who referred to himself as Gordon, at a coffee shop called the “Boo!-bie Brew,” which was right beside the Boo!-bie Mansion. And when she approached the table in the back corner of the coffee shop and a man in a vampire cape was sitting at the table listening to “Ghost” by FeFe Dobson, she probably should have just run in the opposite direction. But she was jealous of Carey’s photo spread of his various pantsuits, and she wasn’t being as careful as she could have been. And if Chloe knew one thing, it was that you shouldn’t take dating advice from your gay friend who just stole your girlfriend. Since that wasn’t particularly helpful advice at that juncture, she basically didn’t know anything at all. One might have said that those hours philosophizing about Dawson’s Creek had been wasted, but if they had said that to Chloe’s face, she probably would have told them to fuck off.

“Please sit,” Gordon said, gesturing to a place where a chair probably should have been, but there was nothing there. Chloe grabbed a chair from a nearby table, and sat down. “Thank you for coming,” Gordon said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

“Well thank you for interviewing me for your magazine,” Chloe responded, feeling more and more uneasy. Perhaps Gordon’s vampyre dirty cape was the reason, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Yes,” Gordon said creepily, “the magazine. I sure love print media.”

“That’s, uh, good,” Chloe offered awkwardly.

“Why don’t we get started?” Gordon asked as he pulled out a piece of parchment and a feather pen.

“Most writers use laptops now,” Chloe joked, which was probably ill-advised.

“I’m not most writers,” Gordon winked at Chloe, making her feel disgusting.

Clearly.

“How long have you worked in the bakery?”

“For about four months now. I feel really lucky to have such a fun job with such great people.”

“Interesting,” Gordon said, sounding as if he thought that was the least interesting thing he had ever heard in his life. “What is your favourite part about working at Juliet’s Bookstore and Bakery?”

“I think it’s seeing the look on people’s faces when they taste something for the first time. It’s nice to make people so happy.”

Chloe noted that Gordon was not writing anything down.

“And what do you think of Juliet Jones, the owner of the bakery and the inventor of the cronut?”

“Oh, she’s great, of course. She worked so hard on the recipe, and it’s nice to see all of that hard work pay off. She deserves all of the accolades that she has been getting.”

“Yes, getting that Time magazine cover must have been really exciting,” Gordon said bitterly.

“You don’t sound very excited.”

“That’s because I’m a vampyre,” Gordon spat. “Excitement is for the living.”

Chloe wanted to point out that it was very clear that he was in fact living, and that covering himself in glitter lotion only succeeded in convincing people that he liked the Twilight series too much, but that would have extended the time that she would have to interact with him.

“So can you tell me in detail,” Gordon said, putting on the fakest and most sickly sweet smile Chloe had ever seen, “how it is that your wonderful little bakery makes those cronuts?”

Chloe gave him a quizzical look.

“Of course I would mind.”

“Come on,” Gordon said in what Chloe prayed was not his pathetic attempt at seduction. “You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone.”

“But don’t you work for a magazine? Isn’t it the point to tell people things?”

“Yes, you’re right, I do work for a magazine.”

“I’m starting to think that you don’t.”

“I’ll prove it, these are my credentials,” Gordon said, pulling out a piece of construction paper with “Press Pass” written on in crayons.

“Do you expect me to believe that your drawing, which frankly looks like it was made by a drunk baby, is really a press pass?”

“No,” Gordon said, tossing it aside. “I expect you to look into my eyes.”

Chloe looked up only to see a completely crazed look in Gordon’s eyes, and she couldn’t decide if it was more terrifying or hilarious. She settled on hilarious.

“Are you trying to glamour me?” Chloe laughed. “Oh, Gordon. It’s hard to glamour people when you’re not a vampire. You’re just really creepy.”

Chloe got up as quickly as she could and practically ran out of the Boo!-bie Brew. Some things are best left behind.