Friday, February 03, 2006

Nuk-u-lear-ated hotdogs on generic white bread

Ok, so when I say it like that, I kinda wanna puke. I ate a lot of the above with katchup as a kid. Not by choice, mind you. But we wuz rilly poe. The white bread was a treat. And it was like a gourmet spread when there was mustard and relish. Relish was like the holy grail of condoments when I was a kid.

But when we lived in CT and in the Poconos, we were so fricking poor, it was mostly cheapass non-koscher hotdogs with burnt popcorn like every fricking day. Peanut butter was more expensive than a 99 cent package of sixteen yucky chicken/pork/beef "product" hotdogs. Shudder. T0 this day, the smell of those kind of hotdogs and popcorn make me nauseous. Consequently, this is the kind they have rolling on those mini-mart hotdog heater-upper thingies next to the glass popcorn machine near the health and beauty aisles in Walmart.

I start thinking about shriveled and exploded hotdogs slathered in katchup and I gag. The meat smell and the gagging reminds me of when I was in college and I was working in the school's theater down town, and there was a small family-owned taco shop right next door. The place always had a funny smell coming from it, the kind of smell that makes you think of cow stomachs and sheep intestines, and not in a haggasy sort of way. Yes, I just used haggas as an adjective. The smell was especially pungent when there was humidity in the air, like fall nights and spring mornings. The smell was most intense when I'd arrive in the morning. It didn't matter whether I had an empty or full stomach, my mouth would start watering in that unpleasent "about to puke" sort of way, and I'd spend the entire morning waiting for the horking to start.


I only bring this up because Ted asked tonight if I minded eating hotdogs with bread instead of buns. I told him YES, I minded, and I refused to eat hotdogs with someone who didn't have buns.

Naw, really. Over-processed, slightly mushy white bread is over-processed, slightly mushy white bread, whether it's in the form of a slice or a bun. I've spent my whole life "making do" with slices of bread when everyone else would have had buns and popcorn when everyone else would have had chips and katchup when I wanted mustard and relish. I think I can handle a slice of white bread without having a nervous breakdown.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

It was thick Italian break - the pricy kind. An I did not have hot dogs, I had spicy sausage & kebose (not that I can spell it). Not that it matters, the boss put out a good spread.

9:40 AM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home