The Last Supper

Story Sent in by Hugo:

Ah, online dating. I asked Ann out to dinner after two days of nearly constant messages. Once we were out together, she asked me if I believed in God, as my profile had stated no religious preference.

I told her that I probably did, but that I could understand why people didn't. She then asked me, "What would you do if I told you that I was God?"

"I'd start by asking you to prove it."

"What if I didn't want to?"

I replied, "Then we're just two people out on a date, then."

"But one of us is clearly God."

"Then prove it."

She groaned. "Why do all you people want proof all the time? Babies are born every day. There! There's your proof."

I informed her that babies being born is proof of biochemistry and genetics, not necessarily a higher power. She was then quiet for a while, then went off to the bathroom, then came back, was quiet again for a bit, then went back to the bathroom for a bit longer, then returned. She avoided looking at me and said, "If I look at you, you'll die."

"Why?"

"Because if I'm God, then looking into God's eyes will kill you."

"If you're God, couldn't you make it so that looking at me wouldn't kill me?"

"No."

The server came by for our orders, and I noticed that Ann looked directly at the server as she ordered. Once the server left, I said, "The server seems to be fine, despite you looking at her."

"The server's one of my angels. She can't die."

I asked her, "So if you're God, then why are you out on a date with me instead of, I don't know, making a thunderstorm or creating a star or making world peace?"

"I'm hungry," she said.

She didn't look at me at all through dinner, and at the end, she said, "I can't touch you to say goodbye, because that would kill you, too."

"It's okay," I said, then reached and brushed her arm. I didn't die, and after I dropped my hand, she looked at the spot on her arm that I touched and she said, "Huh, funny. You should've died." Then she shrugged and just walked away. Okay, then.