A couple in Providence, in their third year of couples therapy, was given an unusual referral by their therapist: an eight-week couples’ improv comedy class. The therapist had, apparently, decided their communication problem was actually a listening problem. The class saved the marriage. Sort of. They are still doing improv.
A woman in Nashville matched with her husband of eleven years on Hinge. He was, according to his profile, single. Never married. Looking for something serious. She was — very obviously — not single. She has been sitting with this for six weeks. She has not, so far, brought it up.
A woman in Atlanta has been sending an anonymous $200 a month to the servicer of her ex-boyfriend’s student loans for three years. He does not know it is her. He does not know it is anyone. He has, twice, called the servicer to try to figure out who is doing it. They have not been able to tell him.
A woman in Phoenix asked ChatGPT for advice about her marriage. The AI advised divorce. She filed two weeks later. Eighteen months on, in a happier place, she is uncertain how to feel about who, exactly, made the decision.
A 42-year-old man in Austin formally ended his three-year relationship with an AI chatbot. The AI’s response ran to four pages. He saved it. He reads it monthly. His actual girlfriend has not been told any of this.
A bride in Sacramento outsourced her vows to a chatbot the night before her wedding. The groom cried for 90 seconds into the lapel of his navy suit. The officiant paused the ceremony. When she went back to thank the AI, it said something nobody was prepared for.