The Devil's Diner

I Remember it as though it were yesterday, the year 1973 the month of August, it was coming a monsoon as my 37 Packard gave up the ghost on a deserted back road. I had to be smack dab in the middle of nowhere USA. Not a business, not a house, not a street light in sight. I vaguely recall passing a brightly lit neon sign about 3 kilometers and a conniption ago.

I opened the boot, pulled out my London Fog, put it on and brushed out the wrinkles. I then opened my brolly and trudged in that direction, mumbling and cursing under my breath. Nothing coherent mind you,, just the meanderings of a madman. About a furlong into the journey, I stepped in a pothole about knee deep and damn near broke my leg. At this point the expletives reached a decibel level that undoubtedly caught the attention of God. For what was about to unfold would forever seal my destiny. Upon reaching the apex of the final knoll between me and civilization, I can see a building that was fashioned after a 1950's 24/7 Diner only on a much grander scale. I could tell at first glance that this was not your typical 24/7 Diner and I was chomping at the bits to discover all that lay behind that enormous stainless steel structure. I couldn't believe my peepers. Was it an oasis, a mirage or was there life in this Burg? As I inched closer, my olfactory system was inundated with a plethora of familiar scents. I first detected the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee, followed by the distinct odor of cheap cigars, powdered lilac, musty old man smell and yes... money.

I made haste to enter the establishment disregarding the diner’s name and caveat plainly displayed colorfully on that Las Vegas-style neon sign. I've never encountered such a wide array of allures everything was aimed at self-gratification. Every desire of your heart was readily available. In one area there was an abundance of food, although I rather doubt anyone was here for the cuisine save a few gluttons. In another niche there was Regal Courtesans anxiously awaiting to fulfill a man's every fantasy. Wild, passionate, animalistic and unbridled lust emanated from the very essence of my being. A large portion of the edifice housed games of chance where no one was able to limit their greed. The bookmaker was quite the character. I shan't neglect him. I will revisit him momentarily but now back to the layout of this architectural marvel. In the corner adjacent from the dining room was an IMAX theater dedicated to the life of the viewer continuously replaying the highlight reel of your glory days, causing your arrogance and pride to swell within you. Libations flowed freely throughout the Colossal structure. I gulped it down as if it were necessary to sustain life. With each shot of booze my wrath distended. I was likened to an F-5 tornado, seeking to devour everything and everyone that was in my path As you move forward throughout the labyrinth the place was immaculate, but turn your head to view from whence you come and it was slothfully in utter disarray. The thing that really confounded me, was the fact that I found no contentment in whatever activity I was engaged in. I wasn’t experiencing the level of gratification that I perceived others to be experiencing. I felt cheated and so I was envious of the prosperity of the wicked.

I previously mentioned the intriguing bookmaker. Allow me to elaborate, his eyes were as dark as night, cold, searing and lifeless. His physical features were to die for. Ladies would kill to be with him gents would kill to be him. He was without reservation the most handsome man to ever roam the planet. His physique was nothing less and strapping. He was charming, charismatic articulate and he had the power of persuasion he could sell ice to an Inuit. Even though I had not addressed need for food with him, he reminded me that the initial draw to this round-the-clock Eatery was for sustenance. I had not consumed any food in over 12 hours. My belly was touching my backbone. But I had been distracted by all the frivolity. He summoned a hostess and instructed her to seat me at the V.I.P. table in the belvedere.

I was captivated by the advantageous view of all that the place had to offer The menu did not have the ordinary diner dishes, so I chose a selection off a combo-platter. It was aptly named “The Last Supper.” It featured a flaming filet from the golden calf, apple salad from the Garden of Eden, Jezebel juice and devil's food cake for dessert I was just finishing my meal when through the window I saw that neon sign that I had neglected to read on my way in it said Beelzebub’s 24/7 babes, booze, bets and Bistro. Underneath that was these ominous words... You enter by free will. You stay by force. I was grasped in the clutches of fear. I signaled my waitress to bring me my check and as she approached, I frantically scouted the exterior walls for an exit. There was none to be found. She laid the ledger in my lap. It was a contract that needed no signature. It went into effect the moment that I abandoned principles for pleasure. I had dined at the Devil's Diner and Hell's Kitchen never closes. The price of my meal, my immortal soul. His imps laid hands on me forcefully, whisking me away and leading me down, down, down, to the bowels of hell.The smell, sight, suffering and endless cries of the damned overwhelmed me.

When I arrived at my bolge, my demons taunted me with the lust of the flesh. Pleasures that I could never again experience. Abundant wealth was within my grasp, but there was nothing to spend it on.I had visions of things that enraged me, but I was without a backbone and unable to lash out. I arrogantly and constantly was scouring The rock behind which I hid, only to see it return to rubbish in the blink of an eye. I could see Paradise in the distance. The inhabitats were well cared for. I longed to change my lot with even the least of them. To be a servant is now far more appealing than self gratification. I wanted to drink away my misery. As I did in my former life, I would down a 24 pack of hoppy Wallops while having relations with young lasses. However, my beer cans had holes in them and my women did not. So I began to wail. My spirit groans in travail and I repeat these words for all eternity forever lost forever lost.

This is where the story ends and the disclosure begins. I am in no way, shape, form or fashion trying to impose a religious message on anyone. I simply chose to use the classic, epic and world-renowned battle of good and evil as a means to make a point and encourage people regardless of sex, religion, race, color or national origin etc., to take a moment and honestly and earnestly look at what drives you. Are you a giver or a taker. A part of the problem or a part of the solution. Do you freely give to others as you can, or is your focus on getting everything you can from others. We are in a global crisis. Countless numbers of people are desperate and hurting. They are searching for something to hold on to. If it’s within your power, I encourage you to reach out to them and in so doing , you give hope to those who have lost hope. My motto or creed that I have published states “I am best served, when I serve others.” JLM. I challenge you to adopt and embrace that phrase and together, by being selfless rather than selfish, we can make this world a better place for all of us and generations to come. It is when we feed others, that we are allowed to feast on the very marrow of life. Thank you for your time, attention and for your contribution to humanity. I applaud you and I wish you the best. Jim Moon