Car and Chicken

Story Sent in by Jennifer:

It was a freezing night and most places were closing, so Jeremy had the idea to do take-out and sit in the back seats of his warm car as a sort of picnic. It worked for me. If anything, I thought it was creative.

Perhaps we could've chosen something a bit less messy than Chinese food, though. It was a logistical nightmare. There were sauces and sticky foods to be tried and shared, and his car wasn't altogether big. At one point I sneezed and sent chicken, rice, and hot mustard flying all over his back seats.

I apologized, but he then dumped his own food onto the back seats and lapped it all up like a dog. He even made weird growling sounds as he did it. Not helping matters was the fact that the floor of his back seats was covered in papers, wrappers, and other garbage.

Once he was done he looked up at me and asked me what I wanted to do. I said, "I want to go home," and so I left his car despite the bitter cold and never saw him again.


  1. Wow. This is the first time that my mouth LITERALLY dropped open as I read one of these. Congratulations, OP - as far as I'm concerned, today you just won the Internet.

  2. There was an opportunity to get down in a sticky pile of broccoli in orange sauce and scallion pancakes and stale rice and you walked?!??!??

    Don't worry, Jeremy, your dream gal is out there, and her name is Fizziks. You're just gonna need a bigger back seat.

  3. "Then we had sex, twice, on his back seat full of garbage while his twin chauffeured us to Walmart..."

  4. OK, can somebody please link to the twin and back seat full of garbage story? I keep looking for it, but the archive is really hard to search through!

  5. Ok, most of this is rediculous, but if my date 8 years ago had the same reaction to my backseat full of junk... I wouldn't be married to her now.

  6. Google is your friend, wolfdreams. But so am I, so here ya go:

  7. My car is clean, but my apartment is messy. How weird am I?

  8. Tanette, the rules are that women's homes are spotless and their cars are pig sties. The reverse applies to guys. You sure you're not a dude? I help maintain my gender ambiguity by being a slob in all aspects of my life.

    1. I guess I’m female, then. Cool! That ought to surprise my fiancée.

      (Well, my house isn’t spotless. But it’s cleaner than my car.)


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