Why You Shouldn't Use a Budget Dating Site

Story Sent in by James:

Alice and I were on a first date, at a fair that was held in a local park. There were a couple of rides, a few dozen stalls and tents showcasing nearby businesses, and lots of families walking around.

At one point, I heard Alice say, "This is all illogical," to herself.

I asked, "What's illogical?"

She replied, "Just all of this. Why aren't these businesses in their stores?" She pointed to one of the rides, a small carousel, "What's that device doing here, and why are so many people packed in so small a space?"

I said, "It's just a spring fair. People like to be outside."

"But why? It's illogical."

"What's illogical about it?" I asked, trying to understand.

She pointed to two kids, likely a sister and brother. "Look there. Shouting things. Not logical." She pointed to a young woman at a stall, selling fresh bread. "That lady of bread. Is she the queen of breads? Why is she here? Not logical." She pointed to the ground. "Green hair sprouting from the floor? Not logical. Why is any of this here, doing what it's doing?"

I said, smiling, "Oh no. She's turned into robot girl."

I thought that the joke would be over. But she was just starting. She hurried ahead and I sped to catch up. She looked at a jewelery spread, under a tent. "Shiny bits. Shiny for no reason. Just absorb light like the rest of us and do not reflect it."

She turned to a clothing stall. "Skin selling? Why sell these colorful skins? My own skins will do."

She looked at a vendor who had stocked bookshelves set up. "Bricks of paper. If you cannot bestow your secrets upon me like a crown on a princess, then we are done here."

She then broke away and walked between two tents. I followed her to a spot away from the fair. "Alice, where are you going?" I asked, "Can we go back to the fair?"

She replied, "I must find a pulpy node to reset." So saying, she booked it for a tree and slammed into it, headfirst, at a horrifying speed.

"Alice!" I shouted, and ran to her side. Her hands went to her head and the back of her neck. She moaned, then turned to me.

"James?" she asked, her voice trembling and weak, "What, where–" She looked around, then up at the fair.

"Yeah, the fair," she said, "That's right. What happened? My head and neck are really sore."

She had a scrape on her forehead, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I took her to the first aid tent, they patched her up, and I waited until we were done there before asking where the whole illogical robot act came from.

"I don't remember that," she said, "But it's happened to me before, I think. This is all like a dream. I don't remember it happening, but when people say it did, I always wondered if it actually happened of if I dreamed that they said it happened."

Oh, it happened. The rest of our time at the fair went about as normally as it could, but she moved a lot slower, and her hands kept rubbing her head and neck. I asked her if she wanted to go to a hospital, but she said that she didn't.

We grabbed a couple of sandwiches to eat, ate them on a nearby bench, walked around a bit more, then she said that she had to go, and so she left.

Over the next day, I called her once (voicemail) and emailed her to check in, to make sure she was okay.

She wrote back, "Yes, I'm fine. Why?" And that's when I decided that any further interaction with her would be illogical.