About five years ago, I tried dating off of Craigslist. I limited my search to people who had posted photos, and that’s how I met April. She was cute and articulate, and we sent messages back and forth to each other. Over the course of the message-sending, two of the additional photos she sent me were of herself holding bananas: not just one, but a bunch of them. One photo was of her sitting with the bunch on her lap, the other was of her sitting while holding them out, as if presenting them. When I wrote her, “Have a thing for bananas?” she replied, “Haha you’re funny.” But to be honest, it was a little weird. We met for coffee and lunch at a great neighborhood cafe. I didn’t recall this when I picked the place out, but they sold fresh fruit next to the register, including apples and bananas. “I know why you picked this place,” April told me as we sat over drinks, “the bananas.” I laughed. “No, but what’s with you and bananas?” She said, “No, I won’t eat them in front of you.” “Huh? I wasn’t going to ask you to.” She laughed and said, “Dave, you take me to a place that has a big pile of bananas as its centerpiece. I’m not a fool.” The “big pile of bananas” she referred to, by the register, was a bunch and a half. Hardly a big pile. In fact, there were more apples in a neighboring wire basket than bananas. Again, I said, “I wasn’t going to ask you to eat a banana.” She laughed once more. “Every guy wants me to eat bananas in front of them.” The waiter came by and asked, “Let me tell you folks about our specials.” She said to the waiter, “No, I will not eat a banana in front of you,” then she stood up and said to me, “I’ll meet you outside.” She departed, leaving her mostly-not-drank tea behind. I said to the waiter, after a few moments, “I guess I’m leaving, too. Sorry about that,” and I paid and left. Outside, she was nowhere to be found.