"What do you think happens when we die?"
"Jesus, talk about go big or go home. I mean way to go with your entry level question there. I'm almost tempted to stand up and applaud."
"Oh yes well.” Silence descended over the table. “You've never thought about it?" Why he asked that follow up question he didn't know. It was an involuntary reflex like it had gotten stuck in his gullet and someone snuck up, performed the heimlich manoeuvre and suddenly out it popped. Just flew through the air in slow motion and there was nothing he could do to stop it once it was in motion.
"Well not whilst I'm eating no."
"Oh yes. I'm sorry, pretend I didn't ask."
“Can you please tell me that this isn't a pitch as to why I should become a vegetarian or a vegan is it?"
"Oh no. No. Oh Jesus no." He looks down at the steak on his plate and wonders if he should point out the obvious but something sensibly clicks in his brain and decides maybe best not to given we've already made faux pas number one and not yet two bites into the meal.
"OK good. If you let me finish what I'm eating, I'll give it some consideration."
He nods in approval and she gives him a faux smile. The cogs have however surprisingly already started turning in her mind and she deliberately waits until he's shovelled another mouthful in to ask him a question just to test his manners.
"Do you mean metaphorically, philosophically, spiritually…"
Her question tails off as she wonders if there's another 'ally she could have added. He holds up his hand like a Lollipop lady last seen outside schools in the late 90s before budget cuts really kicked in, asking her to wait until his words are safe to depart without food flying out or the contents of his mouth at the very least being exposed. All he needed was to replace the fork in his hand with a big circular sign on a large pole that read please wait.
Well he's passed that test at least and that would please her ageing mother If he ever makes it past the first date and to the point of meeting her parents. "Nothing worse than a man talking with his mouthful dear." She'd heard it a thousand times. There were other iterations of course of 'nothing worse than a man doing' something or other. All meant as helpful reference points to finding the ideal man in life. If you totalled them altogether you'd may be lucky in finding the one man that didn't have one of those perceived flaws and even if you did actually exist then they'd of course already be married so maybe it was her mother's way of saying you're better off without a man. That couldn't possibly be true though given the fact that every time she went home for a visit the first question wasn't 'how are you?' but instead 'so then dear, when are you going to give us grandchildren?' Maybe it's best to always go with your gut feeling and right now her gut was on one part saying; this food is pretty good and another was nudging her going, who asks that sort of question on a first date? I'll send a signal down to the feet and we'll generate some energy to get us all to safety. Finally after some considerable time he finishes chewing only to answer "Well you know."
'Well you know,' won't be getting you entry into my knickers ever I know that much already she thought to herself. Suddenly the meal in front of her wasn't so appetising as it had been sixty seconds ago. She forces another faux smile which, if she'd been wearing clown makeup would probably have left him sleeping with the lights on and needing to seek the help of a therapist, picks up her napkin and gently pats around her mouth, screws it up and tosses it onto her plate. Acutely aware he's already blown it by asking the world's worst question on a first date he sheepishly looks at his plate and wonders what the etiquette should now be, finish his meal that he was thoroughly enjoying or leave it half eaten and ask for the cheque? He reasons that given he won't ever see her again he'll finish the meal and if she gets up and walks out then she wasn't a keeper anyway and so takes another mouthful. Of course she could also tip a drink over his head but that was an afterthought after the fork was inside his mouth.
Luckily for him he avoids an impromptu shower and without warning, no tapping of the glass with a knife to regain his attention, decides that she will answer the question posed to her. "Without wishing to appear trite or terribly clichéd a lot will depend on the variables. I mean if you're asking do I think there's a heaven or a hell then Lord no. Reincarnation? A fanciful notion. Ghosts? A Halloween costume at best. No when you're gone, you're gone. What's the expression? Something along the lines of you die twice, once when you actually die and then finally when the last person mentions your name. Not to be confused with you only live twice. That's a Bond film in case you didn't know. Grandaddy made me watch them as a small girl sat on his knee. Anyways I digress back to my last point. Maybe you're destined to go on forever if you've left a lasting legacy for good or bad during your time on earth. I could go on but I don't want to bother you whilst you're still eating." She stops short of finishing the sentence with her observation about finding it incredibly rude.
He doesn't bother to finish chewing this time and with half a mouthful replies "pray tell."
"Oh well thank you very much Bill Shakespeare, how very humbling and kind of you," she begins her reply in a sharp mocking tone. "See that at least added some gravitas to one of my points. Has one man ever had more effect on the lexicon and parlance of language? I don't mean you of course just to clarify. Donald Trump tried recently of course with Biggly but he's got a way to go if he wants to catch up with one William Shakespeare esquire."
This he finds highly amusing and chuckles to himself still mid chew, his shoulders jiggling up and down like his side of the table has been hit by an earthquake. He's starting to like her which is a shame because it's clear the longer they share the same air the more her despising of him continues to grow unabated.
"So a lot depends on the situation and who the person was and in turn what they meant to the people they left behind. Death causes a lot of people to lie. We say we'd rather hear the truth but frankly that's bull shit. I'd apologise for the language but you've carried on eating so we can leave manners, politeness and basic etiquette off the table now. No one ever says what they truly thought of someone do they? You never hear someone say 'Jesus what a cantankerous old fucker he was, quite frankly I'm glad he's fucking dead. Couldn't stand the old bastard - good riddance.' Or 'Such a shame she died so young I never got to slip her one. Christ I'd loved to have pushed her ankles up around her ears and nailed the bitch into next week."
Maybe that last one was too much as he starts to choke on his current mouthful. She's not however about to vacate her seat to volunteer to give him the kiss of life.
"Cough it up turkey, you'll be fine or maybe you won't but you'll be able to answer your own stupid question soon enough. That would be ironic wouldn't it? Be something to tell the girls about though. I'm sure I could easily dine off that one for a good few years you know. Let me tell you about the time I went on a date and their opening salvo was to ask what I thought happens when you die and then he choked to death at the dinner table. I mean talk about coincidence hey. Never did find out whether he learned the answer after he died but maybe he'll haunt me one day and go woahahhahh I have an answer about death." The last bit she says with a somewhat lame impression of him as a ghost complete with actions, none of which is helping him to stop choking.
Eventually with the aid of the rest of his wine he managed to get rid of whatever was causing the blockage. Pity she thought to herself. This didn't stop her tirade of abuse and ongoing diatribe about her thoughts on death mind you or evoke any level of sympathy or compassion whatsoever. He'd asked, so an answer he was going to get whether it caused him to choke or not.
"Death is like a pebble thrown into water. The event itself is fleeting. One last breath and it's done. It's the ripple effect that has the longer lasting consequences. How wide it spreads depends on who died or maybe equally as much the manner or the timing of the death. Sometimes the ripples quickly die out. The force wasn't enough to have that much impact or move across a large surface area. Maybe one or two people are affected but the feelings abate after three months and they go about their business once more. Maybe a song on the radio reminds them of a shared moment but ultimately they've been consigned to history. Like that book you read once, throughly enjoyed and kept thinking you'd read it again but never did. Might as well just get rid don't you think? Oh no still chewing I see, lets say its a rhetorical question and I'll carry on because… well… life goes on once we've gone. Sometimes the ripples, they seem to continue endlessly unabated but even those which started like a tsunami begin to fade until finally there's no more energy left and no more ripples to be had."
Having nearly choked on one of his last bites he too finds he's lost his appetite and has now decided to throw in his lot. He wasn't quite as dainty with his napkin as she had been mind you. She looks at him, looks at his plate and then considers whether to continue on or ask for the bill. He can ask for the bill and pay for it all she quickly decides without actually announcing that to him. So whilst she waits for him to take up the very subtle hint, so subtle in fact that it's not communicated on any level whatsoever, she decides to fill the silence upon which had settled over the table that separated them like morning dew but with less magic, charm and sparkle.
"Take someone who dies who was perceived to have been too young. The ripples go out post death and they touch those who knew the person and leave their mark. The ripples can cause changes in people's behaviour and attitude and that in turn causes another ripple effect, and the force multiplies so that it's no longer about the first person's death anymore. It's reverberated past the point of the seven degrees of separation, you'd need a crack team of operatives to be able to source the point of origin. It's like a team of highly skilled hackers who hide their IP addresses by bouncing something or other around. My apologies not really a tech geek but it's something to that effect. Imagine that though, someone dies in a small village and weeks, maybe months or even years later the ripple hits the other side of the world. Incredible isn't it. One person dies, causes a change in behaviour in another. Maybe a partner left behind… or… a child and it only manifests itself as further ripples when the child is an adult." She's not sure where her point is going but instead of putting his hand up and asking for the bill the bloody man is now sat forward utterly transfixed at her. What would her mother warn her at points like this by saying? 'Nothing worse than a man who hangs on your every word and pays attention with a look of keen interest?' No, that can't possibly be right. Why is he looking at me like that? "Why are you looking at me like that?" Did I just ask that out loud? I must have done it because he's answering me.
"Because your answer is utterly compelling and fascinating and making me think about death in a way I'd never thought about. I apologise profusely by the way. Odd question I know but I had some bad news this week and being a man I'm, well, you know, not great at processing these types of things. Not sure what emotions I'm allowed to show others. Am I allowed to admit I cried or is it still the English virtue of stiff upper lip that applies in situations like this? So umm yeah basically I'm sorry about that and sorry if I put you off your dinner and sorry if I messed this all up."
Well that's a kick to cunt she thought to herself. She never used the word out loud of course, well not when anyone was in ear shot anyway. Mother certainly wouldn't have approved of such vulgarity though the odd flying Freddie especially after a glass or two of after dinner Sherry was known to slip out from her mouth. Certainly never before 7pm and certainly not in respectable circles you understand but never, ever, ever the c word. Suddenly she felt incredibly guilty which wasn't an emotion she was used to. "Well I'm sorry for you bad news which I'm assuming meant you lost someone so in fact I'm sorry for your loss but would you mind not staring at me it's most disconcerting and in polite circles considered to be quite rude."
"Thank you, I think. I'm not staring though, I'm merely giving you my full and undivided attention which I'm led to believe is considered to be the height of politeness in most circles…squares…triangles."
Well that put her in her place and she squirmed awkwardly in her seat and tried to regain her composure.
Perhaps what she really needs is a man capable of putting her in her place, she made a mental note to give it more consideration later on.
"Maybe…" She stops to mentally check in with herself before continuing. "Maybe we should start again with something a little more sweeter on the palate, lighter on the brain and jollier for a first date?"
His hand shot up like a primary school child needing a wee to attract the attention of the waiting staff. Oh a little too desperate you silly, silly little man. Such a pity and she crosses her legs out of sight under the table.
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