But Her Trunk Smells Delicious

Story Sent in by Sam:

Peggy and I met at a speed dating event. I wasn't expecting any success to come out of it, but she really appealed to me. She was in a pre-med program at a local college, and she also sang at various weddings and special events in the area. Armed with her contact information, I called her and asked her out to dinner.

We were at dinner, and our food had been delivered to the table. She inspected her chicken from all angles and asked me, "Does this look cooked to you?"

I looked at it. It looked very cooked, and I told her so.

"Hmm," she said, then pulled out a lighter and held the chicken right over the flame, apparently attempting to cook it herself, right there and then.

I suggested, "Why not send it back, if you'd like it cooked for longer?"

She did that, and the rest of dinner passed without incident. After dinner, we took a short walk and I asked her if she'd sing for me.

"No," she said, "I didn't really get enough to eat at dinner, and I'm still hungry."

"Want to grab dessert somewhere?" I asked, "Ice cream?"

She replied, "No. Is there a grocery store around here?"

I followed her to a Wal-Mart and hurried close behind as she led me to the meat section. She grabbed a pack of chicken breast and said, "This looks good."

"Those are raw," I pointed out.

"They sure are," she said, "But they're cheaper than buying pre-cooked. Follow me and I'll show you."

She checked out and I followed her back to the parking lot. She opened up the trunk of her car, opened up the chicken breast pack, said, "I can't believe what a good deal this was," took out her lighter, and held it under the chicken breast, right over her open trunk.

"Are you serious?" I asked her, "This is going to take forever, if it even cooks at all."

"I've done this a million times. I'm hungry now. Go if you want to."

She hummed over her cooking. I attempted to make further conversation, and she gave me quick, monosyllabic answers. She clearly didn't want me to be there any longer as she ran her lighter back and forth and hummed a strange tune over her raw, dripping chicken.

"Okay, then. Have a good night, I guess," I finally said.

"You too," she replied.

I went home. She might still be there, as far as I know.