Whatever You Do, Don’t Go Into That Kitchen

This is the time I was either featured on some obscure “gotcha” video show without my consent or possibly narrowly avoided being drugged and dismembered by a serial killer in rural America. I’m still trying to figure out which possibility is more likely.

I’m driving across a few states by myself. It’s getting late, and I’m getting hungry.

I find a small town just off the highway and pull over into it. I quickly find a cute little restaurant with white linen tablecloths and prairie décor. The only things it’s missing are an ox-skull on the wall and several large wagon wheels.

I enter the restaurant and am greeted by a young man. There are no other diners in the restaurant. In retrospect, that should have been my hint to leave.

Employee: “Hello, sir, ma’am… Sir? Ma’am?”

He’s likely confused by my gender presentation.

Me: “Whichever.”

Employee: “Let me, um, get you a table? And a menu?”

Me: “That would be nice, thank you.”

Employee: “Can I get you a drink while you wait?”

Me: “Coffee, please.”

Employee: “Gotcha.”

And he disappears into the back. I read the menu some and decide what I want.

I hear some… strange noises: some thumps, a grinding sound, maybe a strangled shout?

The young man comes out from the back, and I can’t help but notice that he now has a bandage on his hand.

Employee: “The coffee will be a little longer.”

Me: “That’s, uh… fine?”

He turns around to leave.

Me: “Can I give you my order?”

He darts out before I can finish.

I pull out my eBook reader to relax. My reading is interrupted by more thumps and other strange sounds. What in tarnation is going on back there?

The young man comes out again. Now he has a very obvious-looking scald mark on his other hand. His hair is damp and sticking to his head.

Employee: “Your coffee will be a little longer.”

Me: “Before you go, I’d like to make an order.”

Employee: “What would you like?”

Me: “The shepherd’s pie, please.”

Employee: “Okay.”

And he’s gone again. Slightly suspicious, I stand up after he leaves and pull out my phone. I start shining a light at things, looking for hidden cameras.

The young man returns with the coffee. He is now walking with a bit of a limp and has more bandages on his hand.

Employee: “Your shepherd’s pie is on the way.”

I sip the coffee, and it tastes wrong. It’s very gritty and full of grounds and just… generally wrong. I have been here for too long and still have not yet been fed. I slide a five under the coffee to cover the bill and start to leave.

The young man darts out from the back to block me from leaving.

Employee: “Please stay! This is my uncle’s restaurant! He’s sick with cancer! I’m just filling in for him! I don’t want it to go under!”

Me: *Pushing past him* “I’m going.”

Employee: “Please at least give us a good review on Google!”

Me: “I’ll consider it.”

I ran to my car, turned it on, and left. I was paranoid after leaving. Several times, I thought a car was following me, only for it to turn out not to be. Finally, I made it to a fast food place and got a quick hamburger. I was very hungry.

That night in the hotel room, when I searched for the place on Google Maps, I could not find it. I stayed up all night too frightened by the encounter to go to sleep.