the Diner Across the Street

fear is no fun

The Diner Across the Street

            His apartment was dark and dim, lonesome in a way that seemed to chill his blood. The problem was that he was comfortable in his solitude. The shrouded gloom of the morning put him at ease like a soft blanket around his shoulders, protecting him from the outside world. Jason wasn’t afraid of people per se,’ he could handle just about any situation short of fisticuffs. Nevertheless he was inherently terrified of people that he didn’t know, folks that didn’t know him, and all he had was an outside appearance that he could be judged by.

He didn’t have a big car with tinted windows that he could hide behind. Nor did he have the money to buy a fancy new outfit to cover his large belly or the stupid tattoos that were once so cool. The retched skull with the leering grin on his forearm and the evil cherub on his shoulder had both been appropriate reflections of his attitude toward society when he was wading through the tediousness of high school. Now that he was out of school and earning a living working nights as a fry cook at a truck stop, the tattoos were merely a reminder of who he used to be. Jason supposed that a tattoo of vindication may be in order sometime in the future, maybe the face of Jesus somewhere, like on his chest over his heart, but he didn’t have the money or the inclination just yet.

It was good to be able to relax on his night off. He sat in the dark, working on building up the nerve to putting some clothes on after taking a shower and shaving, and walking to his front door. Then it would be a matter of turning the doorknob, pulling the door open, and stepping outside where they all were, people that he wanted to be in the company of so much. There was a small pub around the corner from his apartment building and there was a movie theatre just down the street from that. There was also a liquor store down the street two blocks in the other direction and there was the Piggly-Wiggly grocery store just three blocks from there.

It was the greasy spoon type restaurant across the street from his apartment building that frightened Jason the most. That’s where three of the most beautiful women he ever saw worked. Every time Jason would come home just before sunrise he would see them, standing behind the counter after a long night’s work and talking. Once in a while one of the waitresses would look up and see Jason as he stood and looked at them, and his heart would send an electric flash of desire all over his body. All he could do from there was to rush into his building to find sanctuary in the darkness of his apartment.  Jason wasn’t sure why he was so frightened of the waitresses that he wanted so much, any more than the rest of the people that lived in the city. All that mattered was his fear and the darkness that allowed him to hide from the world, despite how lonely he was or how much he longed to be among other people once again.

When he went to work Jason did what he had to, what was necessary to earn his pay. He’d smile for the checkout girl and trade pleasantries with the middle-aged waitress who did so well with all the truck drivers that devoured the burgers, meatloaf, and fried chicken that Jason learned to cook in his high school home economics class. When he’d get on the bus just after ten at night he was able to act normal enough to divert any attention from himself from those around him until getting to work. On the ride home at five in the morning he usually had the bus to himself where all he had to deal with was the bus driver and his fatigue. It was then that Jason could relax in the darkness until the bus pulled up in front of the restaurant with the three attractive waitresses where his mask of self assuredness would go back over his face until he could make his way to the door to the apartment building without making a fool of himself in front of them. It seemed that his mind would go into a preprogrammed movie where he was both the star and the bad guy, while the heroine was the girl who watched from the seats of the theatre while Jason excelled in his performance, in his acting out the things that people do in their work day as if he were a normal person. The film would end when he could finally pull his keys out of his pocket and open the door of his apartment, releasing him from having to act the part of being ordinary for the world.

In the shadowed comfort of his couch he would listen to heavy metal music and drink beer, prepare to go to sleep, and gaze at the draped window that screened the world outside. As his eyes would close in the blackness of his bedroom his body would crave the companionship of a woman. His dreams would take him where he wanted to be so much, seated at the diner across the street with one of the smiling waitresses, sharing his supper with love in her eyes. After the meal a long white limousine would pull up and Jason would take the lovely woman by the hand. They would climb into the back where Jason’s sexual fantasies would all come true as the streets of the city would roll by in the light of day. When the evening would finally come Jason’s dreams would end with the setting of the sun and the beginning of the night. He awakens to the sound of his alarm clock.

The darkness continues to surround him with the fear of the outside world that he hides away from. Today he doesn’t have to go to work or to bear up the façade of being normal for the truck stop kitchen. As Jason sits and the fear envelopes him like a heavy cloak of cold silk, he begins to get angry at himself for being so weak, so wretchedly dependant upon his phobias. His cheek is sandpaper against his palm and his shorts stink from beneath his nose. Standing up on his own two feet he casts his cloak of fear to the floor and walks to the bathroom where the shower and shaving kit await him. The aftershave feels good on his smooth skin and smells as pleasant as the hand soap that washed away his excuses. While Jason puts on his last clean shirt and ties his shoes, hunger rumbles in his belly. As petrified as he is, his body obeys distant commands from the back of his mind, and he puts his hand on the doorknob; actually turns it. Only three flights of stairs down until he is at the lobby of his building, and the fear that almost rings in his ears falls silent as he steps out onto the street.

It takes a little while to cross because of the heavy traffic on the boulevard. Jason actually makes it without being mowed down by some driver that doesn’t like the way he’s dressed, and when he walks to the front door of the diner he notices several open booths among the people eating. Opening the door and stepping inside, a bell rings from the top of the doorway. One of the waitresses that he’d seen, that he desired for so long, steps up to him and smiles.

“Good evening sir.” Her voice is music that puts the heavy metal in the trash can where it belongs. Her smile is an instant of radiance that empowers Jason’s new found strength. “Would you like a booth or just coffee at the counter?”

He tells her that he’d like a booth as calmly as possible and follows her to where he has wanted to be for as long as he could remember. He sits and orders a coke, reading the menu and watching the swirl of the waitress’s dress with peripheral vision. She returns, he orders dinner, and after the meal is finished Jason’s dreams come true.

When he asks the waitress her name she tells him with a smile. After that she agrees to go out to see a movie with him the next day. The day after Jason goes to the movies with Jennifer, the pretty blond waitress who was raised in Ohio and hopes to go back to college someday, he takes the aluminum foil from his living room window. Darkness just doesn’t seem so important anymore.