Put the Chicken in the Fridge: Fifty Shades Darker Chapter 3

Posted on August 6, 2012 by


I was thinking the other day about playing The Sims 3 and making Ana/Christian characters and seeing if eventually the Christian sim would be so douchey that he would start spanking Ana’s sim even though I’m pretty sure that’s not actually an option. One time I made myself and my at-the-time boyfriend sims, and eventually his sim started doing things to my sim that he did in real life. Like his sim would constantly come up behind mine and scare the shaloop out of it. And he got a job at the local grocery store and went nowhere with his sim life. So realistic, these games!

Chapter 3

Now that Ana has told Christian she loves him, she can’t stop saying it. I understand that this is actually Normal Human Behavior, but Ana’s e-mails to Christian make me want to puke. Oh, I love the apps you put on the iPad and YOUUUUU!!! Admittedly, this is less insufferable then their five day breakup angst, but it’s still eye-roll inducing.

Their e-mail exchanges begin with, you guessed it, Christian harassing Ana over what she’s eating. Give it a rest, bro. Let the lady eat her banana in peace.

Ana listens to the iPad playlist some more and reminds us again of Christian’s “eclectic” taste in music and how she loves him for it. Obviously this book wouldn’t be another five hundred pages if Ana’s happiness lasted, so I’m just wondering if she’s going to find something else Christian related to angst over this chapter or next. I remember in the second Twilight book Edward left to protect Bella from himself or some bull shoop, so I’m guessing something stupid and shitty happens to break them up (again) in like ten minutes.

She starts e-mailing Christian again, and he informs her that SIP (the company she works for) monitors her e-mails. Whoops.

Jack comes over to ask Ana out for drinks again, and we get this great description of what he’s wearing for some reason, “It is Dress-down Friday so he’s wearing jeans and a black shirt. He looks very casual.”

I love how James just tacks on that he “looks very casual” as though we weren’t sure what jeans and a black shirt translated into. If she didn’t specify I might have wrongly assumed they were some sort of black-tie jeans.

Luckily, Jack is asking Ana to a group excursion, so she accepts. Crazily enough the place is called “50s”! What a significant moment! In fact, it’s so significant, let me quote the whole exchange for you:


“You’re kidding.”

He looks at me oddly. “No. Some significance for you?”

“No, sorry. I’ll join you over there.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“A beer please.”


I can’t quite explain to you why this cracked me up. Is it how innocuous but awkward their conversation is? How abruptly it goes from Ana’s reaction to the bar’s name to what she wants to drink? Is it the unnecessary “cool” and how the conversation just ends there? Yes. It’s all of those things.

Then something really creepy (and admittedly kind of interesting) happens. This weird young woman approaches Ana outside of her office:

“No . . . I just wanted to look at you.” Her voice is eerily soft. Like me, she has dark hair that starkly contrasts with her fair skin. Her eyes are brown, like bourbon, but flat. There’s no life in them at all. Her beautiful face is pale, and etched with sorrow.


“What do you have that I don’t?” she asks sadly.

My anxiety turns to fear. “I’m sorry—who are you?”

“Me? I’m nobody.” She lifts her arm to drag her hand through her shoulder length hair, and as she does, the sleeve of her trench coat rides up, revealing a soiled bandage around her wrist.

So both Ana and myself immediately figure out this girl has something to do with Christian. And obviously this is the moment where I poll you guys (come on, it’s so obvious).

Christian meets Ana at the bar, and he and Jack glare at each other and basically, as Ana says, have a pissing contest. It doesn’t last too long, because soon enough Christian is whisking Ana away to do whatever the hell he wants instead of following through with her plans. And in the car:

My cheeks turn pink, knowing that Taylor can hear us, grateful that he can’t see the scorching, panty-combusting look that Christian is giving me.

I’m glad no man has ever looked at me in such a way that my panties combust, that would be a really awkward and troublesome situation to explain. Following this sexy look, they actually have some nice flirtation going on that I can’t mock. But it looks like it’s leading towards some sex, so we’ll find out soon if anything more bizarre then “what part of your cycle are you in?” occurs.

Don’t you worry, before they even get to Ana’s apartment, Christian says something weird!

“You look lovely,” he says.

“As do you.”

“Your boss, Jack Hyde, is he good at his job?”

Whoa! That’s a sudden change in direction? I frown. “Why? This isn’t about your pissing contest?”


“Well, he can want all he likes . . . why are we even having this conversation? You know I have no interest in him whatsoever. He’s just my boss.”

“That’s the point. He wants what’s mine. I need to know if he’s good at his job.”

So, theoretically, if the guy behind the counter of a McDonalds was looking at Anastasia, wanting to get in her pants, Christian would be curious about the man’s job capabilities? Now that’s a chapter of this book I’d wanna read.

What if Ronald wanted to fuck Ana, and he and Christian competed for her heart?

So then we find out that Christian bought SIP and that if Jack hits on her more Christian is going to fire him. Because he needs her “safe.” Dear God, if Ronald looks at Ana the wrong way, McDonalds is dunzo. Their burgers are definitely too dangerous for Ana, so she’s probably not allowed to eat there anyway. That would be another argument I’d want to read in this book. Ana like defending her right to go to Taco Bell and McDonalds and Christian going into one of his rages and spanking her over it.

I now pause to gripe about something that isn’t plot related. Ana calls Christian an “arse” despite the fact that they, you know, don’t live in England. And then to make matters weirder, right after doing this Ana refers to Christian’s smile as “all-American.” Do you see how these things are at odds, James? Jesus.

So far there’s nothing more awkward than Christian asking whether she’s been taking her pill or not. That’s a legit question. Let’s read on and see when things get freaky…okay…still just asking about whether or not she ate, nothing new to see there…hmm…Ana’s whining more about Christian buying SIP…boring…wait.

We interrupt this almost-sex to bring you grocery shopping?!

Yes. Christian realizes Ana has no food in her house…so they go grocery shopping. Immediately. Like there is a scene change and everything. So absolutely nothing noteworthy happens when buying groceries, unless you were dying to know that they decide to make stir-fry for dinner and do not have sex at Ernie’s Supermarket (thank God).

This feels so . . . normal. Two people, getting to know each other, having a meal. Yet it’s so strange. The fear that I’d always felt in his presence has gone. We’ve already done so much together, I blush just thinking about it, and yet I hardly know him.

But you’re IN LOVE with him?! In love! What even. Ug.

But then she tells Christian this, and he assures her she knows him better than anyone. Alrighty then. Now we can move onto some cooking, which I think we’re supposed to find sexy or something.

Ana’s cooking flirtation works because this happens:

“I think we’ll eat later,” he says. “Put the chicken in the fridge.”

This is not a sentence I had ever expected to hear from Christian Grey, and only he can make it sound hot, really hot.

You know, I don’t think anyone went into this book expecting Christian to say, “Put the chicken in the fridge.” Based off of my extensive knowledge of the first Fifty Shades this was not a sentence I was sure would come up. It’s painfully obvious than neither Ana nor myself know Christian Grey very well at all.

They have incredibly straightforward sex, and the chapter ends with them both coming. Awwww. These crazy kids.