I have never been afraid of the dark. I’ve had other misgivings–mostly involving elevators or vermon–but never the dark. So when I heard of a restaurant that has sightless wait staff and is entirely in blackout, it didn’t terrify me, it intrigued me.

We were escorted into the room by holding shoulders with our waiter and walking in a line to our table. I don’t remember ever having physical contact with a waiter before, so it was a bit odd at first. We were seated and used our hands to become accustomed to our surroundings. Every time we were served something I had to touch our waiter again. I’m sure it didn’t bother him, but it felt a little close and personal to me.

We could not see a thing. Not even our own hands an inch from our face. Our eyes never adjusted to the dark. My husband claimed to have removed his pants, but even I know that the worry of dropping a knife in his lap would prevent that from happening.

But the fear was real in there. One couple had to be escorted out over sobs, and I heard that it is common for diners to be on their own in the dim lighting of the waiting area while their families enjoy the experience.

But did I enjoy it?

I enjoyed the company of my husband. I enjoyed the wine. The food was edible, and I didn’t have to cook it or clean up which I loved. But, I also know, I would not go back.

I think some experiences are meant to be one-offs. This is one of those. I got comfortable being uncomfortable, and that was good. I

But, I think I have learned enough from the experience not to have to return to scrape the last bit of fried, ‘something that once lived in the ocean’ off my plate. I understand what it was there to teach me without a repeat performance.

You can be afraid and still be ok.

If you are claustrophobic, avoid a dark dinner. If you worry what people will think of you when you come out of a dark room with stuff on your face, steer clear of a dinner in the dark.

My suggestion though is to not avoid a dinner in the dark unless you have real fear. If this year has taught me anything, it is that being afraid and fear is different. Being afraid is a good safety response your body develops. Mine seems to be broken or not always turned to ON, because I hurt myself often, but that is for another day.

Being afraid to try something new and fail is normal, produces an excellent little adrenalin rush, and makes you learn something about yourself. True fear is crippling. With depression fear is real. Fear kept me glued to the couch for three years. Now that I am feeling better I am just afraid. That is not so bad. I still sometimes wish I could spend a day on that comfortable couch with my remote in hand, but I know that will be inviting fear for a visit, and fear doesn’t bring good coffee when it pops in.

So I will be happy to be afraid. Afraid of the dark, the future, the judgement. But I will stay away from fear. That, my friends, is how they get you.

My Turning 50 Like a Boss Tip: Don’t be afraid to be afraid.

Check out the video: Darkness My Old Friend

 

Author

Kristine Laco shares the stories we all have with a splash of sarcasm, a pinch of bitch and a ton of wine at Adulting In Progress dot com. Her middle finger is her favourite and she lives by the motto that if you are not yelling at your kids, you are not spending enough time with them. She takes selfies at the gyno. Taco Tuesday is her gospel. Reality TV is real folks. She is making turning 50 a job because she doesn't have one.

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