reasons i’ll never eat at denny’s again

for my storytelling strategies class at nyu tisch’s film and tv program

We’re in a Denny’s with the entire cast of the very last play I will ever do. There’s a finality in the darkness that lingers outside. Once we step out, we will never see each other in this way again. in a Denny’s at 2 am, surrounded by 26 other people, There’s a moment where I think I will tell you what’s been lurking inside of me because there’s a moment where I think that you will tell me that you know and I will finally feel that you see me.

I’m standing by a bush outside of the Denny’s and it’s 2:45 am. Half of us have driven away, disappeared into the night forever, ad half of us are still inside. Outside of the Denny’s, I place a cigarette in between my lips and watch as you put on your jacket and walk outside. Your car is parked on the other side of the parking lot that surrounds this little island, and you linger at the entrance.

I know you don’t smoke because you smelled it on my fingers at 4:15 this afternoon and your nose wrinkled as I taped your mic to your face. But at 2:48 am you turn to me and ask me for my cigarette. I wonder if I don’t know you as well as I thought I did. In a life of watching other people from a distance, it wouldn’t be the first time that I have been wrong. We stand outside together for a moment and I watch as you begin to cough.

We’re standing 4 feet apart outside of the Denny’s and I’m the closest to you that I have ever been. I can see the way your eyes wrinkle from a smile that I know as the one you instinctively make when you mess up on stage no matter where you are in a scene. I know it because I watched you from a beam of light throughout every rehearsal and performance. And I know that, once we step out of this, we will never see each other in this way again.

The cigarette between my fingers burns out, its small embers fading into nothing, and the sudden cold against my fingers shocks a need inside me for light again. I learn my legs can move before my brain does and I learn that the bright entrance of the Denny’s does in fact hold 2 people. I learn that just one hit of a cigarette can in fact make your mouth taste like ash, and I learn that you can grow to like the taste of it too.