Story Sent in by Randall:
It was a standard Internet date with Tiffany. We were out to dinner and the conversation flowed. I noted early on that she had a red leather briefcase with her in addition to her purse. I thought it was weird but maybe she was on her way from work. On a Saturday. Whatever.
While we were in the middle of talking about hockey (we were both fans), she pulled out the briefcase and opened it, unprompted. I only saw its contents for a few seconds in the dim light, but it looked to me like piles and piles of loose cash. Mostly $20s. I had never seen that much cash all in one place in my entire life, and I haven't since.
She closed the suitcase as quickly as she had pulled it out and stuffed it back under the table. "I'm running away tonight," she said.
"Why?" I asked, stunned.
"It's a long story," she sighed, and then launched right back into our prior talk about the Kings. I asked her again if everything was okay and she said it was and then changed the subject once more. So she didn't want to talk about it. So then why flash the cash?
Of course, she was content with me paying for dinner despite the fact that she probably had mid-five-figures on her. After that night, I never saw or heard from her again.
That's probably because you murdered her behind the restaurant in a dirty alley, spread her body parts between a few near by dumpsters and strolled away with your new briefcase. Hard to hear from someone buried in a landfill.
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