I reluctantly take shotgun

Carrie opens the door and without much hesitation, slides the front passenger seat forward and takes a seat in the back. She slides the seat back and readjusts the cushion so it's tilted a bit towards the rear. Corey leisurely sits in the driver seat and looks over at me, indecisiveness painted on my face. “Brianna?” he asks.

There is much hesitation on my face and more so throughout my whole body, but my feet propel me forward somehow and with much uneasiness, I manage to sit myself in the passenger seat. I was just here before coming to the apartment and I didn't have too much trouble sitting beside Corey, who has the same cool demeanor as he drives his car out of the lot. Maybe it's because there is another person present in the backseat.

All throughout the trip, which is awkwardly silent, I'm in my thoughts. It's like the longer I'm in this body, it's like my mind is slowly getting rewritten and reprogrammed to think like a girl. The most prevalent thought is wondering if Corey is stealing glances in my direction. Then my worries extend to the people at this Korean BBQ restaurant. Would the males eating there see my pretty face and be attracted and continue looking?

Before my mind dives even deeper into the rabbit hole, a hand shakes me out of my reverie. It's Carries hand, accompanied with her voice, “Brianna? Bri! We're here.”

“Oh,” I manage to utter and before I can fumble for the door handle, Corey is at the side of the car, opening the door for me.

“I might as well be the gentleman in this case,” he says with a smile. I get out and he slides the seat forward and offers a hand to Carrie, to assist in her exit from the car.

“A lucky gentleman who gets to have two lovely women on his arm,” Carrie says and with no delay, wraps her arm around one of Corey's. He avails his other for me to do the same and the three of us stroll over to the restaurant.

The inside of the restaurant is warm, making it quite hot in the jacket I'm wearing. Fortunately, at this time of night, the place isn't too busy. I can spot some patrons seated at their tables in opposite sides of the restaurant. There are about twenty round tables in total and four larger, rectangular tables towards the back, complete with partitions for privacy and a larger pair of exhaust fans hovering over them. As far as I can tell, there are no large parties and only three of the available round tables are occupied by groups of three or four.

A waiter approaches us and Corey speaks up. “Corey, for three,” he says and with a smile, the waiter nods and directs us to a corner table. As we get settled, we take off out jackets and hang them on our chairs. Having eaten at a Korean BBQ restaurant before, though not at this particular one, I know what to expect. As the waiter takes our order of drinks, another pushes a cart from the kitchen and lays out plates, utensils and an assortment of side dishes around the grill of the table. Surprisingly, Carrie orders some beer while Corey and I choose to only drink iced water.

We order a full serving of meat for our first round and a bowl of rice for each of us to accompany the cuts, which are brought out together. Among the cuts presented, we have thinly sliced brisket, thick cuts of unseasoned pork belly and a portion of de-boned chicken. Corey takes the initiative to cook for all three of us, though at times, Carrie serves him cooked meat so he doesn't feel left out. Nothing feels different when eating as a woman and as we enjoy the food, time passes by rather quickly. My mind is full of the savoring of the flavors entering my mouth to worry about if the guys at the other tables are looking my way.

The only take-away from this experience is that I start to feel full sooner than I think and I soon stop eating, especially after finishing my bowl of rice. Carrie, having drunk a full bottle of beer is nearly incapacitated and has also stopped eating. Corey orders another portion for himself and I take this chance to cook up his meat and let him consume it. Carrie lays her head on the table, more or less, leaving me and Corey to chat ourselves up.

“So, it's been about three or four hours. How's the experience so far?” Corey asks as I place a cut of pork belly on the grill.

I place another cut, inhaling the aroma of the rendering fat, before answering. “It's been nice so far, I guess, but I can't really gauge the experience solely on one-sixth of a single day,” I mention.

“You can go as fast or as slow as you want. As for pork belly, I'd like you to take the cooking slow. It's not like the brisket we had earlier,” Corey says. “Notice on this side changes while the other side gets the heat.”

I watch the meat cook, noticing the inside of the bones start to sweat and the blood or what looks like it start to rise. It's when they almost start to leak out from the sides do I flip it the cuts. The side that has been cooking is sort of a uniform color and the fat is almost indistinguishable from the meat. Judging from Corey's expression, I have done nothing wrong.

As I continue tending to the pork belly, taking Corey's advice to let the meat cook thoroughly, a man from the other table approaches. Since Corey isn't doing anything, the man addresses him. However, I cannot hear what he has to say as the sizzles from the grill is primarily all I can hear.