This entire story is a joke

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

It was raining the day I met him. I was just passing through, really; it was Soho, the Chinatown district in London, and I was on my way home from work. He was a handsome man, stunning, with perfectly coiffed brown hair that swept up in two spots in the back. It was cute; they kind of resembled wolf or dog ears. Somehow they stayed there even in the rain. His clothes fit him perfectly, obviously custom-tailored just for him. He looked rather handsome in them. He looked a little confused, and kept checking some kind of brochure he was holding in his hand.
We happened to be going the same direction, so I slowed down, following behind. I didn't want to get too close. A woman can never be too careful in this age. Finally, after the third time he stopped to check the street signs and stare at his brochure, I sighed and approached him. "You seem lost." I said matter-of-factly.
He turned to me and gave me a little smile. "Ah... yes... just looking for someplace." He held up his brochure. It was a takeout menu for a restaurant. One that I knew well; it was one of my favorites. I often stopped there on my way.
"Ah, Lee Ho Fook's. I know the place. I can show you the way, if you'd like."
He smiled suavely. Lord, those TEETH. How did he get them so WHITE? "Only on the condition that you accompany me for supper."
So SMOOTH. I flustered a little bit, drawing my jacket tighter around my cheeks to hide my blush. "... Are you buying?"
He offered his umbrella to shield me from the rain. "It would be my honor, miss...?"
"Bella. You can call me Bella." I stepped under the shielding canvas and pulled my hood down.
He smiled warmly, eyeing me. "You sure live up to your name, Miss Bella. You can call me Lycan." He turned to look down the road. "Which way to the restaurant?"
We were only a block or two away, and I guided him there with familiarity. I paused to read a headline in the afternoon paper: "Brutal Mauling of Elderly Woman." I shuddered a little and entered the establishment with the man. Once we were seated, he smiled at me.
"So.. a yank, living in old London Town. Get tired of the colonies?" He gestured to me.
I smiled, a little self-conscious. I knew my accent was a dead giveaway of my origins. "Followed work here, actually. The company I was with moved its main headquarters from New York to London, and they wanted to keep me on as head of marketing, so here I am." I twirled my hair nervously. How did this man get me so flustered, so easily? I didn't even really know anything about him besides his name. "And what brings you here? Your accent isn't London, it's... something else. Northern, I think. I'm not really great at distinguishing the different accents."
He laughed, a beautiful, melodic sound. It reminded me of something I couldn't quite place. Something familiar and sad. "Ah, now that's a story. I've been traveling a bit. Kent, Mayfair... in my youth, I was even a bodyguard for the Queen, God rest her soul. Got seen on television a few times, not that you'd have been able to recognize me in the uniform."
He smiled and started to say something else, but the elderly matron of the shop, a lovely woman whose name I've never been able to learn, interrupted to ask us for the order. He grinned. "I'll take your BIGGEST dish of beef chow mein, and whatever the lady wants, as well."
I smiled at her. "Just my regular, please, thanks."
He grinned. "Ooh, your regular. That means you're here a lot. Must be some good stuff."
I giggled. "Oh, I am. At least once a week. This place is between my office and my apartment... sorry, 'flat,' so I stop here for dinner regularly."
He leaned in. "Ooh, good enough to eat here every week, huh?"
"Sometimes two or three... or six... times a week." I admitted sheepishly as I watched his grin. Was it me, or were his canines longer than the average person's?
He grinned and glanced around, then leaned in. "You wanna know a secret?"
"What?" I smiled. What could he possibly have to say? For some reason, I was fascinated.
"I'm secretly a werewolf." He grinned playfully, but I could see the seriousness behind his eyes. "And I'm on the run because of a few little... accidents, that I had."
"Wait, really?" I perked up. I'd always thought the stories of werewolves might be real. Was it true?
"Nah." He laughed again, and I heard it this time- his laugh sounded sort of like a lonely wolf, howling at the moon. "I just like to tell people that. My name's Lycan Thorpe, I kind of had to either lean into it, or let it bother me."
We shared a lovely meal together, and he was a true gentleman through it. We exchanged numbers, he paid the tab, and we went our separate ways. I haven't seen him again since- neither of us ever really ended up calling the other- but I've always wondered if he was secretly telling the truth about being a werewolf.
Here it is, six months later, and I'm standing outside Trader Vic's, staring through the window as he sits alone at a table, his hair still perfectly coiffed and his clothes still perfectly tailored. He smiles at me and lifts his glass, a Piña colada, in a 'cheers' motion at me. I stand there, wondering for a moment, and then I bite my lip and make a decision. I have to know. I turn and head for the door to join him.

[Amazee Dayzee]

This definitely is a really intriguing start even if the story is just a joke. I find it to be impeccably written!

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

This is the whole story. It's more a "reference" than a joke. I had a song stuck in my head, see...

[CunningFox]

Nice story about a great song.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Yeah then I don’t have any clue what this is all about then. I need to know what the song is or else I will never be able to understand where the story came from.

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

Well, you see...
I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand
walking through the streets of Soho in the rain
He was looking for a place called Lee Ho Fooks
Gonna get a big dish of beef Chow Mein

It's Werewolves of London. The story is Werewolves of London.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Oh yeah know I do get it since you explained it a bit. That was a song by an artist who died about 30 years too young because A) he was afraid of doctors and didn't see them and B) When he was diagnosed with mesothelioma he didn't both to get treatment. Such a shame. If only he ha gone to the doctors maybe he would still be alive today to enjoy every sandwich.

Make sure you get yearly checkups folks!