Story Sent in by Gil:
I picked up Evangeline at her house for our first date. She looked great, in a very flattering outfit, but she also brought with her an unusual accessory: a stuffed, plastic grocery bag.
My first thought was that they were a spare pair of shoes, and I asked her as much, merely out of curiosity.
"No," she said, "It's my trash. I didn't have time to throw it out before leaving. I'll toss it in a can or dumpster or whatever we pass along the way."
Worked for me, although a little strange. I forgot all about it, and so did she. Dinner happened, and then we took a nice walk, and then we made it back to my car. It smelled like rotten garbage.
"Pugh," I said, "We forgot about your trash bag. Want to toss it?"
She said, "Yes. Drive me home and I'll take care of it."
We must have passed at least three trash bins on the very block where my car was parked. I suggested, "Why don't we bring it to a trash just outside the car? Silly to take it back home."
"I'm fine taking it home."
"Would you mind throwing it out here? I'm sorry, but it's really stinking up my car."
She yelled, "No! No, okay! I want to bring it home and home is where I'm going to bring it! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home!"
It was strange, as she had definitely previously said that she would be fine tossing it away while we were out. Her sudden turn to nastiness was so unexpected (and so loud) that it turned me a bit nasty, myself. I grabbed the trash bag, jumped out of the car, and made for the closest trash bin.
"No!" she screamed, "Get back here! That's mine! It's mine!"
I threw it into the closest bin I could find, then strode back to my car. She pushed past me, reached into the garbage can, and pulled the bag right out.
I said, "What are you doing? I don't want it stinking up my car. Leave it."
She said, "I don't want you coming back here for it. I'm hanging onto it, and if you don't drive me home, I'll find someone else to do it."
"Are you serious? You think I'm going to drive back here after dropping you off and go through your trash?"
"Take me home or I walk."
"Are you really serious?"
"Take me home with this bag."
"No way," I said, and made for my car.
I heard her shout, "You're just going to leave me? Are you really that big of a jerk?"
I guess I was. If you're not going to trust me to not look through your garbage, then why should I have to suffer for it? I left her there with her trash. Her choice.
Unfortunately, my car stank for a couple of days afterward, but soon the smell and her unpleasant memory faded away.