This is one of my favorite scenes in Dracula, when the vampire girlfriends are kind of about to gang-rape Jonathan and he's kind of into it, only then the Count storms in and grabs the lead girlfriend by the neck and throws her across the room because for Pete's sake, do you think it was easy to get an English real estate agent all the way out here in the middle of the Carpathians? I had to go get him from the train station and I have to keep feeding him, because these guys eat food, you know, I can't just grab a villager and stuff him in a sack and bring him home like I do for you three, and do you think I enjoy catering to the fleshly whims of a big dumb mortal? I, a Székely, a descendant of Attila the Hun, do you think I like roasting chickens and brewing coffee like some damn servant? And then you people go and try to eat him before I've even bought the house! YOU CAN EAT HIM WHEN I'M DONE!
I love the notion of Dracula, incarnation of fleshly lust, stuck in this position where he has to keep managing the physical needs of others. He has to feed Jonathan; he has to feed his girlfriends; he has to keep the girlfriends from "kissing" Jonathan; he has to have lengthy discussions with Jonathan in order to keep him up until dawn so he sleeps really late and doesn't find it strange that the Count sleeps really late too. And when Jonathan cuts himself shaving Dracula has to keep calm about it, all that wonderful blood, five whole quarts of delicious English blood, no, restrain yourself! All this delayed gratification is such a pain. Vampires aren't good at it.
I had a whole thing I was going to tell you about Dracula's girlfriends (a blonde and two brunettes) and their intriguingly ambiguous relationship with him, but that will have to wait, I have too much work to do.