The Last Date
Today is Valentine's Day. I'm going to use this holiday that I don't really believe in to share a short story I wrote years ago, which is somewhat relevant in theme. The Last Date was originally written for and published in Like Like Zine, the zine I made with Peige. It was for Issue #4: Crushed, the dating-themed issue.
I had no idea that my first date with Jess would be our last first date ever. No, it wasn't one of those simple 'ole night on the town, just few rounds of drinks and pointless small talk. You know that date. It typically involves a healthy amount of shuffling about while realizing the man in front of you shares zero chemistry with yourself. He brings up remarkable topics such as asking about your job and schooling, all before the grand finale of him going in for that awkward kiss. You turn your cheek just in time, ensuring that both of you will never see each other again. Nope, Jess and I did not have that date.
It also wasn't a date full of heated tension. You know that one as well. It's that date where the banter is easy and that heated tension is felt between both parties. You only want to stop the talking so that he can go in for a kiss, take you back back to his place and have the two of you fuck each other's brains out. A date so good that it really was the last first date you'd ever be on because you found the coveted "one." Our last first date was most definitely not that either.
The chime from the diner door rang as Jess and I entered, both feeling a bit lightheaded from the crash. A middle-aged waitress approached us and took us to our booth. Her name tag read "Marge." Crikey, she was born for this job.
"Whatya want to drink, hon?" she asked, chewing her gum loudly and pulling out a notepad.
"Coffee. Black," I responded.
"I'll have mine with cream and sugar," Jess said. I raised an eyebrow. Well, well, Jess.
"That was some crash, eh?" Jess said, browsing through the menu. "It was pretty lucky of us find this place."
"Yeah. And to get seated so quickly. The joint is packed." I stretched my neck out and gave myself a look around. "How big is this place anyway? It seems to go on forever."
"Dunno," Jess responded, not looking up from the menu. "I wonder if they have never-ending pancakes?"
"Man, there must have been a comic book convention nearby." Scattered between regular-looking folk were people dressed as pilgrims, Charles Dickens-ish characters, and Roman soldiers. Others were wearing old-timey Japanese robes, Greek togas and even some people were dressed as cowboys.
"That Mongolian dude has a big fucking sword!" Jess exclaimed. "Either there was a costume night at one of the clubs or I guess this is the late night freak crowd."
Maybe he was right. It did feel late. Real late. Like two or three a.m. in the morning. I usually loved being in diners at those hours but this situation was bizarre. Marge returned with our coffee. "Ready to order?"
I told her that I wasn't and she sighed. "Okay, but lemme tell y'all somethin': we're getting more customers by the loads. It may be a while before I can get back to ya."
"Just how much room does this diner have?" I asked.
Marge smirked. "Oh, we have the room, hon. I've got tables to hit. Figure out what you want and I'll be back when I can."
"Do you have never-ending pancakes?" Jess chimed in. I glared at him and he shrugged. "What? I don't want to wait."
"Hon, the entire menu is never-ending," Marge replied.
Jess slammed his fists onto the table and laughed. "Well hot fucking dog! Ya here that, Noelle? Put me down for some never-ending French toast with some never-ending bacon! And keep 'em coming."
I sighed and thought about what Marge had said, about all the room the diner had. Come to think of it, I hadn't even noticed how big the diner was before we entered. I actually didn't even remember seeing the outside. "Hey, how did we find this place, anyway?"
Jess looked dumbfounded. "Shit, you're right. Do you think we got concussions from the crash? Wait—did we just leave my car behind?"
I had a sinking feeling in my gut. I looked around at all the people. All the outfits. I realized they were all speaking different languages. Marge talking about customers coming in by the loads and how all the food was never-ending.
Jess pounded on the table again. "Get a look at that alien! It looks so real!"
I tugged at Jess' sleeve from across the table. He looked back at me and then back at the alien. And then at me again. "What?"
"I'm pretty sure we died."
"No."
"Yes."
"Nah."
"Actually, my fine fellow," a voice interrupted. It was a short man wearing a top hat and a monocle, the absolute model for Mr. Monopoly. "The lady is correct. Everyone here has met their fate, their ultimate end. And in their end, they have come here.
"Wait, so this is heaven?" I asked. "A fucking diner?"
"Heaven? Oh ho ho! After waiting in that bathroom line for three-hundred and sixty-four years, I can most definitely say not," Fake-Ass Monopoly replied. "However, it is indeed the afterlife. It's the afterlife for all of us, from all walks of religion and countrymen. Even from across the years of history and the planets of the cosmos! We all end up here."
I turned and looked around again. The Mongolian warrior had pulled out a knife and was stabbing the menu violently. Two ancient Egyptians were looking at one of the menus completely confused. I even saw a uniformed old-timey soldier sipping on a Coke. Another waitress started to zoom past us and I tugged her apron before she could escape.
"Hey! If this is the afterlife, why is the damn menu in only English?" I demanded.
"What-are-ya-askin-me for?!" she snapped, pulling back her apron. "I don't run tha' damn place, I jus' work here!" And with that she took off, grumbling about crazy broads and their questions.
So this was it. I was dead. I had so many questions. Were we here for eternity? Were we going to get billed at some point? I looked up at Jess for some sort of comfort. Jess, the cute temp at work who used my sweet tooth to coax me into going out with him. I hadn't been too crazy about him but I had figured a few hours with the guy wouldn't kill me. Now look at us. I guess we had for all time for getting to know each other.
Marge returned with his first round of French toast and bacon. I hungrily took my fork and went for a stab at some bacon glory.
"Whoa, whoa!" Jess exclaimed. "Noelle, hey, I'm sorry but this is a never-ending meal. It's always strictly against the rules to share."
"Are you serious?"
"It's as bad as sharing in a buffet! And honestly, if you really wanted to eat, you should have ordered when you had the chance." He shook his head while repeating himself with a mouthful. "....when you had the chance."
What kind of asshole was this? I wanted to leave but I could no longer see the entrance door. There were only booths. A sea of endless booths.
I gripped my fork and stared at Jess intently. I knew what I had to do but I didn't know if I had the guts to do it. Then my stomach growled, putting an immediate end to my indecision. It was now or never.