Well, I've got a bubble to burst, though, and some of you may not like it. But I've got to spread the word about the almost religious experience I had this past weekend when I took a chance on an unknown stand, which, from my foggy memory I think was called "Sam's Gourmet."
I was surprisingly not feeling the vibe of Logans, my favorite big-beered bar, but I was feeling the hunger pangs coming from my stomach. I stumbled out of the door and to my left was a happy man serving hot dogs. The set up was simple, but from what I remember I think I had my choice of hot dogs and condiments, and all for the low low price of like, $5.00. I mean, even if it was a bad hog dog I could be happy about the price, right?
But good ol' Sam didn't disappoint me! I don't think it was just the drunchies (drunk munchies, of course), mind you, because that was the best damn hot dog I think I've ever had. The proportions were perfect. It was messy as hell, but it was delicious! I had to share this discovery with everyone in my group. I've stumbled upon greatness, and I've got Sam to thank. I want to stop by so often that at the end of a long night I can just wander right up and say, "Sammy boy, I'll have the usual," and he'll know exactly what I want. (And by the way, I will always know him as Sam. Even if his name is Sunny or Roger or Bartholomew, that shit's never going to matter to me.)
Anyways, between the limo ride home on Friday night (that's another story) and that glorious hot dog on Saturday, I would say that all in all it was a successful weekend. I'm turning 22 in three days though, so I'll report again on what it feels like to be an old woman. If all goes according to plan it's going to be a shit show...so...*here's hoping there's a lot to blog about*
I'll tell you one thing is for sure though: I will NEVER be too old for a hot dog.
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