The Great Avocado-Gate

Chloe prided herself on her investigative dating skills. Mark's profile clearly stated his undying love for avocados. 'Finally,' she thought, 'a man of refined taste who appreciates the creamy, green gold.' So, for their first coffee date, Chloe, wanting to show she 'got' him, arrived with a small, perfectly ripe Hass avocado, complete with a tiny, travel-sized salt shaker.

Mark walked in, charmingly awkward. They exchanged pleasantries. Then, with a flourish, Chloe unveiled her offering. 'I saw you loved avocados,' she beamed, pushing the verdant orb across the table. 'Thought we could share a little pre-coffee snack. I even brought the salt!'

Mark’s smile faltered. His eyes, just a moment ago sparkling, now held the terror of a man cornered by a particularly aggressive clown. 'Oh,' he managed, 'the... avocado. Yes. Right. That picture on my profile…' He trailed off, looking like he'd just swallowed a pit.

Chloe, misinterpreting his hesitation as modest delight, insisted. 'Don't be shy! I picked the perfect one. It’s practically butter!' She made to slice it with a tiny plastic knife.

'No, no!' Mark blurted, practically vaulting back in his seat. 'You see, that picture... it was a dare. My flatmate dared me to put the 'most millennial food item' I could think of as my main interest. I actually... I actually *despise* them. The texture. The taste. It's like eating a green, buttery cloud of existential dread.'

The tiny avocado sat between them, a silent, emerald monument to miscommunication. The silence that followed was so thick, you could spread it on toast… if that toast wasn't avocado toast. Eventually, Chloe burst out laughing, and Mark, relieved, joined in. It wasn't the romantic start she'd planned, but at least she now knew his *true* feelings about healthy fats.