The Mayor of Crazytown

Story Submitted by Ed:

Anya and I were out to dinner, seated in a booth on a first date.  Not long after introductions and quick recaps of our days, she pointed to her napkin, her spoon, and her fork.  "Alice, Cindy, and Bo."

I asked, "I'm sorry?"

"The napkin, spoon, and fork.  Those are their names.  Alice, Cindy, and Bo."  She then pointed to my napkin and silverware.  "Jeff, Sam, and Bert."

I thought that she was trying to be fun in a childlike way.  At least, that's what I hoped.  A moment later, her eyes lit up and she pulled the sugar, salt, and pepper in front of herself and said, "Kiera, Francine, and Mindy."

I said, "A lot of women at this table."

She tapped on the table and said, "The table's a he.  His name is Ralph."

I nodded, then asked, "Why are we naming things, again?"

She said, "Because those are their names, silly."

We put in our orders and I wondered if she was going to name her food when it arrived.  Until then, though, we spent several minutes talking to each other, learning more about each other, and laughing.

At least, that's what I wished we had done.  Instead, Anya took that time to explain the complex interactions and politics between all of the denizens of the table.  "Bert and Francine like each other, but it's taboo for a fork to pursue salt.  Jeff and Francine will probably wind up together, but not before Kiera kills Sam for killing her parents."

It was very creative, but also psychotic.  I initiated a different branch of conversation a few times, but she was way too into her little world to give me much notice.  To be fair, we did talk about other topics, but interactions between salt, napkins, and water glasses clearly took priority in her world. Yes, she did end up naming all of the foods on her plate, and came up with complex justifications for eating each.

When the check came, she named it Heinrich and we split it.  I told her, "I had a good time with you and all of your characters."

"Thank you!  So did we.  Bye!"  She remained in the booth, staring at her collected "friends."

I asked her, "Are you ready to go?"

She said, "I'm just saying goodbye.  You can head out, though.  It was nice meeting you!"

I left her there, as I didn't want to interfere with what promised to be a series of heartfelt, tear-jerking goodbyes between salt, sugar, and non-diluted insanity.