best hot dog experience ever...
So Lea and I have been dying to go to Bob's Dogs since school began and we discovered he had veggie dogs and non-egg buns. Alas, after every class, we'd trudge over to his little stand - his lively music greeting us as we bounded up to the wooden door - and every time, he claimed he was out of dogs. 'Twas many a sad day.
But then - tonight - we decided to take a chance on good ol' Bob! With the soft snow gracefully falling, we danced under the moonlight and then braced ourselves for the usual response. Yet, tonight was not like any other night, for Bob had our dogs! Unfortunately, no bun...
But I digress. We opted to split a veggie dog - a tester dog, if you will. We waited patiently as Bob started the fire and threw the non-meat item on the grill. As we stood chatting, another customer came in and kindly asked about cheese for his sausage. Apparently Bob doesn't have cheese. But there's a good reason for it and Bob decided to tell us the tale. For, the last time he had cheese, it came in a bottle. Late one night, a rather large and drunk man rushed over to Bob, dying for that soft, gooey, orange substance. Bob handed him the bottle - but the intoxicated fellow couldn't get the cheese out, not matter how hard he squeezed! Frustrated, he handed it over to Bob - who is rather small in stance. This story has no happy ending, for no cheese ever came out. And Bob decided to write a song about it. Then Bob serenaded us, with his acoustic guitar, over the heat of the barbeque. It goes a little something like this...
easy-squeezie-cheesie, it won't come out.... easy-squeezie-cheesie, it won't come out... And so on and so forth.
Soon... the moment we were waiting for had arrived. The veggie dog was done! As I took out my 5 dollar bill, I simply asked Bob to cut the dog in half, so Lea and I could each put on our toppings of choice. He stopped midway and shook his head sadly. "Do you girls not have enough money for two?" he said with a strong Mexican accent.
I shook my head, "Oh no, its not that at all..."
Bob interrupted. "Here, take it. On me."
"But.. but..." I waved the 5 dollar bill frantically in his face, but couldn't help but smile at the elderly man.
Bob placed the dog in my hand. "All I ask is that you smile. And if you like it, come back."
We all agreed that a vegetarian dog has never tasted so good.
We waved our goodbyes, with promises of returning.
And that, my friends, is the tale of my hot dog experience.
But then - tonight - we decided to take a chance on good ol' Bob! With the soft snow gracefully falling, we danced under the moonlight and then braced ourselves for the usual response. Yet, tonight was not like any other night, for Bob had our dogs! Unfortunately, no bun...
But I digress. We opted to split a veggie dog - a tester dog, if you will. We waited patiently as Bob started the fire and threw the non-meat item on the grill. As we stood chatting, another customer came in and kindly asked about cheese for his sausage. Apparently Bob doesn't have cheese. But there's a good reason for it and Bob decided to tell us the tale. For, the last time he had cheese, it came in a bottle. Late one night, a rather large and drunk man rushed over to Bob, dying for that soft, gooey, orange substance. Bob handed him the bottle - but the intoxicated fellow couldn't get the cheese out, not matter how hard he squeezed! Frustrated, he handed it over to Bob - who is rather small in stance. This story has no happy ending, for no cheese ever came out. And Bob decided to write a song about it. Then Bob serenaded us, with his acoustic guitar, over the heat of the barbeque. It goes a little something like this...
easy-squeezie-cheesie, it won't come out.... easy-squeezie-cheesie, it won't come out... And so on and so forth.
Soon... the moment we were waiting for had arrived. The veggie dog was done! As I took out my 5 dollar bill, I simply asked Bob to cut the dog in half, so Lea and I could each put on our toppings of choice. He stopped midway and shook his head sadly. "Do you girls not have enough money for two?" he said with a strong Mexican accent.
I shook my head, "Oh no, its not that at all..."
Bob interrupted. "Here, take it. On me."
"But.. but..." I waved the 5 dollar bill frantically in his face, but couldn't help but smile at the elderly man.
Bob placed the dog in my hand. "All I ask is that you smile. And if you like it, come back."
We all agreed that a vegetarian dog has never tasted so good.
We waved our goodbyes, with promises of returning.
And that, my friends, is the tale of my hot dog experience.