Kay never thought a god could suck so bad at darts. The young man found himself in an unfamiliar bar, bereft of anyone besides himself and the mysterious man who had introduced himself as God, though after introducing himself the strange man focused intently on his game. He sat poised behind a line of black tape, hurling darts with abysmal accuracy. The outside of the dart board was peppered with rogue darts, and the few arrows that were embedded in the black and white wheel were worth a pitiful number of points.
Kay sat on a stool at the bar, as he waited for the God to finish his game. The bar was quiet. The young man had visited a few bars with his dad and cousins, but he couldn't say he cared for them. Okay, that was a lie. He hated them. Or rather, he hated the environment. For an introvert, being amidst a large throng of people was the equivalent of tightening a noose around his neck. The strain on his ears as they attempted to process the input of dozens of conversations echoing around him felt like hearing nails on a chalkboard. Luckily, in his current situation he didn't mind the bar. Aside from the pings that resounded from the dart board every other moment the space was dead silent.
"Hell yeah!" the stillness in the air was shattered by God's fervent cheer.
Leaning off his seat, Kay saw a dart planted dead center in the board. Bullseye.
"Did you see that?" God ran up to Kay's seat like a little kid expecting praise from their parent.
Is this guy really God? Kay thought to himself. There was nothing about the man that screamed "deity". He wore Khaki pants, a navy-blue polo, and a baby blue baseball cap. His auburn beard with whisps of gray mixed in towards the bottom and small crinkles around his dull brown eyes gave him an aged look. Though, at the moment, his unbridled smile bursted with energy unexpected from an older man.
"Yeah, that's great," Kay responded nonchalantly.
"Come on, surely you can do better than that," the self-proclaimed God dropped his smile as he towered over the young introvert.
Kay had no idea how to deal with this guy. The swiftness in which he changed personas was giving him whiplash.
"You're 21 years old and that's the best you can do? Someone tells you something they're proud of and you respond with indifference?" God chastised him.
In response to God's admonishment, Kay's blood began to simmer.
What do you want from me? Talking to strangers was both something that he rarely did and something he avoided at all costs. He didn't have to talk to anyone if he didn't want to. Kay knew it was childish of him but didn't care enough to change his behavior.
'It's no wonder you don't have any friends." God spoke objectively and nonchalantly, though there was no doubt he knew the effect the words would have.
Kay pushed himself away from bar counter. The simmer had turned into a boil, and that heat carried him, not towards the self-proclaimed God but towards the exit. Though violent thoughts emerged, he had long since learned that confrontation was not his strong suit. He envisioned himself pummeling the man, the potential energy of his anger being transferred into kinetic energy as blow after blow resounded from flesh to flesh. That was enough for the boy. With that image in his head, he brushed past God, who made no effort to stop him.
He heard the heavy thuds as his feet carried him towards the white and green exit sign and the rough and scratched wooden door beneath it. With one last glance back at the man behind him, who hadn't moved an inch, he turned the handle and pushed.
The door didn't budge. So, he tried pulling the door. No dice.
"That door isn't going to open, Kay," said God. He stood with his face in his palm, as though he was disappointed by what he'd seen. He started moving, but instead of approaching Kay and the door he simply took a seat at the bar counter.
The weirdness of the situation began to weigh on Kay and the God's new serious attitude forced the young man to take him more seriously. Though it pained him to talk to a stranger that he hated, the circumstances left him with few other options.
"What is this place and how can I leave?" said Kay.
God outstretched his hand toward the bar wall. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew, which carried a bottle of scotch and two glasses which gently landed before the seated God. It was first godly thing Kay had seen, which he thought was at least a little cool. He poured the amber liquid into the two glasses.
"You're dead, Kay." The God ignored the two full glasses before him and took a sip from the bottle.
"You can leave after we've had a little chat about your future."