The leaves on the trees beneath us sway gently, the hills beyond them somehow resembling the past more than the future. And all around us the night pours in, as if it is one thing and not many. Impenetrable and complete, with or without us.
The light flickers again and somebody makes a joke about a spirit trying to contact us and everybody laughs but still, there is something brittle in the laughter. Everything is softening at this hour and it’s easy enough to imagine a soul loosening itself from the body. People start to tell stories of the supernatural. Tales of coincidence and premonition. Angels and ghosts. Messages in dreams. All these encounters and intuitions unresolved. And when the last story had been told, we sit quietly, goose-fleshed and knowing nothing. All so small beneath the night and the just-glimpsed shooting star above, a luminous proof sent to us from distances and realms unknown.
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Ponderosa
By Dan
Fucking A.
The Ponderosa delivers like a goddamn steak mailman.
Unlimited chocolate milk? Unlimited awesome.
Love the swinging doors and bacon bits, and almost everybody working there was wearing a hairnet, so you know that they’re serious about their crap. I’d definitely go back. Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker!
The Pink Dragon
By Keo
The food is very good here but I swear to God the place is haunted! I went down to the basement to use the bathroom and while I was washing my hands I saw a pale Asian man standing behind me in the mirror, but when I turned around there was nobody there. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but later I was told that the Pink Dragon was built on an old Chinese morgue and was known to be haunted. Apparently a dishwasher stabbed a cook to death there too, and after that they erected those lion-dog sculptures out front to ward off evil spirits. If you take a close look, you’ll notice that there’s no #9 on the menu, and this is because the cook was murdered on the 9th day of September, the 9th month of the year.
Der Speisewagon
By Anthony
Lauren and I used to go to Der Speisewagon together. It was kind of our place. Felt weird, sad-weird to be there alone. When Lauren and I were together German food seemed kind of fun, like a campy polka, but now it just seems blunt and obnoxious. I don’t really remember what I had, some sort of sausage and a shit ton of beer, I think, so you know, just not very memorable. Lauren, she’s memorable. She was my schnitzel.
Chuck E. Cheese’s
By Susan
Look, I know that this is a place for kids, but Jesus Fucking Christ! The food was awful, like garbage they dug out of a hole. Not even a drunk person could eat it. I ordered the “chicken sandwich,” and I am damn sure positive that what they served was not chicken. Maybe goat. Or squirrel. God knows. The staff was lobotomized and dirty, and the kids unsupervised savages. I saw one 6-year-old girl with hot, greasy cheese strands in her hair and two pepperoni slices covering her eyes. The plus side is that they sell beer. I had four. And then, drunk, I drove my son home, swearing to never, ever set foot in that accursed place again. The horror, the horror.
