BLIND DATE

Wha-at? My epically low blind date expectations had obviously not been low enough. I checked the message from Jennifer on my phone. Yes, correct, 1425 Maple Street, Glass of Merlot, her favorite joint, apparently. A glance at the ancient numerals next to the wrought iron cemetery gate confirmed the obvious: my GPS has gotten it right as usual, 1425. Now what?

This was unexpected. I felt tired and groggy. A thought was worming its way through my skull, "Probably shouldn't have had that scotch after work." But I needed a pick-me-up, honestly I did. Two weeks of back-to-back overtime would do it to anyone. I knew I should have rescheduled with Jennifer, but my mom... My mother, the eternal match-maker, sometimes was a royal pain in my posterior. She was so worried about me and the future of my hypothetical progeny that, when it came to her matchmaking, I could not trust a word she said. Like Nancy, for example, the epiphany of my mother's past matchmaking failures. I remembered my blind date with crazy Nancy with a shudder. Or did it become chilly all of a sudden?

"Oh, Jennifer is such a nice girl," mother said. "You'll like her!" mother said. "Do it for me, Stan, please." Right. For all I knew, Jennifer was a double my age and triple my size, bald-shaven meth addict. I really did not need any of this. What I needed was a good night's rest. I shook my head.

And that is when I caught the glimpse of HER in the passenger's seat. THE WOMAN. I saw her. A dark shifting shape of a half-decomposed woman in a tattered white robe was rapidly congealing next to me. A chilly waft of something inconceivably horrifying touched my face, paralyzing me, turning me into a frozen lump of human waste. From the corner of my eye I saw the scenery outside coming to life with more shifting dark shapes congealing all around me, seeming to whisper, "Just give in, Stan, you are already dead." I realized that my breathing had stopped. Clinging desperately to the last ephemeral vestiges of awareness, I struggled to shift my foot off the brake pedal. My attempts were futile. I could not move.

"Hot," the shape next to me rustled softly. Unable to turn my head, frozen in deathly grips of terror, I managed to angle my eyeballs toward the apparition. What the devil was that in "her" hand? Wait, I saw it clearly now. "She" was grasping a steaming Starbucks coffee cup in her bony fingers. What the...? The empty eye sockets and her lipless "smile" were not the least reassuring.

"Uber?" the apparition whispered.

UBER?! Twisting and wrestling with the steely numbness with the remnants of my willpower, gnashing my teeth and moaning gutturally, I jammed the gas pedal, while turning the wheel with the weight of my body to compensate for the deathly weakness in my arms.

Through the bushes and off the curb I careened onto the street blackened by the night, my tires screeching. Down the street I flew, past the dark businesses, zooming through the intersections past the cars and narrowly avoiding a pedestrian. I inhaled noisily, savoring the breath of life, and tried moving my head. I could move!

There was no apparition on my passenger's seat. I groped to make sure. The seat was empty. I pulled over to the curb next to some bar that was still open to catch my breath. Whew. Holy crap! What did I just live through? Or did I? Of course, I didn't! Ha-ha! What a crazy dream or nightmare or whatever it was. I took a few deep breathes calming down, savoring the sensations of being alive.

Wait, what was that on the floor on the passenger's side? Trash? I cleaned my car before the impending date. Unbuckled, I groped on the floor in the darkness and came up with... an empty Starbucks cup. Still warm.

I bolted out of the car and into the open door of the bar, shuddering and writhing, dry-retching, my vision blurred. I staggered to the bar counter, taking the stool next to some blond. "Whiskey," I croaked, "double." The bartender eyed me with compassion. "Have you just seen a ghost?" he asked. "Mind your own frigging business!" I snapped, pulling out my phone. What a goddamn night! I took a few deep breathes.

"Are you okay?" the blond next to me, quite attractive, asked, concerned. "You don't look very good. Can I help? Should I call an ambulance?"

"No, thanks, I am okay," I mumbled.

""Good!" the blond smiled, making me feel a lot better. "If you are okay, you should probably apologize to Eddy now. You were rude to him." She pointed at the bartender, who made a dismissive gesture as if saying, "No need. It is all good."

"Sorry, Eddy," I told the bartender, "just a crazy night. My apologies, man, okay?" He waved me off with a grin. I downed the spirits in two gulps and felt a little better.

"Thank you," I said to the cute blond and meant it. Nice girl. "Can I buy you a drink? What are you drinking?"

"I like Merlot but I don't think so," she said after a long minute. "I am waiting for someone."

"No problem. Maybe later. I'll be right here next to you whenever you're ready," I smiled to the blond. After a long double-take, she returned the smile but said nothing.

The hell with this. No more blind dates. I called the number in Jennifer's message to disengage from that previous engagement, politely--preferably but not necessarily. I've had enough of my mother's meddling. Enough.

The blond's phone rang. Gracefully, she fished it out of her jean pocket. "Finally," she muttered as she brought it to her ear. "Hello? Stan? Where are you?"

My eye fell on the bronze sign over Eddy's head, GLASS OF MERLOT, and the address under it 14125 Maple Street.

"Jennifer?" I spoke into my phone softly. "I'm here."