The worst dates are the dates with Death. She doesn't let you choose the restaurant, but once there she only looks bored. She straightens the feather in her hat in the reflection of the dessert spoon. Even when she deigns to converse, she insists on only looking at you through her black net veil. Who can put up with that?

The musicians, one by one, put down their instruments. The lights begin to dim. The waiters eventually stop coming round, because Death has overturned both water glass and wine glass. The candle finally burns itself out.

Then Death unfurls her glittering smile, her one silver tooth, and lays two large bills on the table. She gets up, takes her tiny purse, and leans over to kiss you on the cheek. "I'll be seeing you..." she whispers in your ear.