No One Says Fon-Don't to Fondue

Story Sent in by James:

Christa and I arranged our first date over the phone. She told me about an amazing fondue place that I had to try. I hadn't heard of it, but apparently it wasn't too far from where we both lived. We agreed to meet up for a quick coffee, then head to the fondue place for dinner.

Coffee went well, aside from the fact that Christa wouldn't shut up about the fondue place. Her last time there had been two years prior, and she was very excited to be going back. She rattled off a list of everything it was possible to dip into everything else. The more she went on, the hungrier I became, and the better it ultimately ended up sounding. We jumped into our cars with excitement and healthy appetites.

She told me the address and off we went. I followed her to a forested country road, and stopped my car behind hers when she pulled over. I exited my car and walked to hers. I asked, "Everything all right?"

She replied, "Yeah. This is the right address… but where is the place?"

I looked around. Trees and nothing but. No other shops, strip malls, or even houses. I said, "This can't be the right place. Maybe it's the same address, but in a different town?"

She said, "1850 Oneida Parkway. Fallsington. We're at the right place. I remember the trees. Only the place isn't here."

The trees surrounding us were obviously many years old. There was no way that anything could have been built there within at least a few score years, by my estimation. I suggested, "Try looking it up online. Maybe it… moved?"

"They don't have a website," she said, "I know it's right around here."

I said, "Then maybe we missed a turn."

She nodded. "Yeah, I think I saw an old road back there. Follow me."

I followed her about a mile and a half back. She made a left turn into the woods, where no road was. I parked my car on the side of the road and ran after her. It was easy to catch up, as the trees prevented her from driving too far off the road.

I knocked on her window. "Where are you going?"

She unrolled her window and said, "This is a road, isn't it? It's got to be down here."

"This isn't a road!" I said, "Where are you going?"

She looked around in the dusk, then sighed and dropped her hands from the steering wheel. "I guess it closed down and turned into trees," she said, then threw her car into reverse and backed up to the road in a hurry. Luckily, no other cars were coming, or there would've been a mighty accident.

I followed her car out of the woods, returned to her window, and asked her, "We can go somewhere else. I know a good Chinese place–"

"No. Fondue only," she said, then sped off, without waiting for me to jump into my car and catch up. I ran back to my car as fast as I could, but she was gone, and I had no idea where she ended up. I texted her multiple times to ask where she was going, if she still wanted to do dinner, and, eventually, if we were still on a date. No response to anything.

I was a bit insulted to think that she had apparently ended the date because of the lack of fondue, and for a few days I thought about writing to her, but she intercepted me at the pass by writing to me, herself:

"James - sorry. Embarrassed about the whole thing. Sorry. Good luck."

It was nice that she explained herself, at least a little bit. Good luck to her, too.

Incidentally, I looked up the fondue place myself, and discovered that it had relocated to a nearby town, and had never, apparently, been located at 1850 Oneida Parkway in Fallsington in the first place.