Dog Jerky

“It is for stamina.”  She said to him with her cute mouth on her cute face.  She was Korean.  Just Korean - no hyphen.  Her English was as cute as her face.

“I am strong enough.  American macho me.”  He laughed.  They had met in Koreatown by accident.  By traffic accident.  She had run her Silver Lexus into the back of his red BMW.  The true American auto industry in action.  A coming together of  countries.

“Not strong.  Endurance.  It is very hot.  It will keep you hiking.”  She placed the strip of jerky to his lips.  He was sweating.

“It’s not Kimchi is it?  I’m from Ohio.  Spicy is too spicy for me.”  He laughed pushing it away.

“Kimchi not too spicy.  Kimchi right spicy.  Garlic just right.”  She giggled.  He liked her giggle.  She giggled at their accident.  She had only run into his rear bumper.  It’s what bumpers are for he had joked.  She was so short, he first thought she was only twelve and stole her father’s car.  What if he didn’t have insurance?  He had forgotten he was in California with its no fault insurance.  Turned out she wasn’t a kid but had a high deductible on her insurance and asked him not to report it to the police.  She giggled. Could he just tell his insurance he found it that way?  Of course, he could.  Her giggle won.

He smelled the strip she held out.  “No garlic.  What is it?  Korean jerky?”  He stuck his tongue out just a little.  She giggled as she pushed the strip onto his tongue.  He tried not to draw back.  He didn’t want to insult her culture.  “Okay.  It’s not too spicy.”  He took it into his mouth and started to chew.  “Salty.”  He smiled.  She smiled back cutely.

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)