The other day I was down in the “Boro” and decided to stop in at the Home Improvement Warehouse on the parkway to check for a light fixture. The light fixture in the bathroom has been blinking and winking for some time and finally died. I wanted to get another one that would fit the same space, but have been having trouble finding the right kind.

I didn’t have any luck finding the light at the warehouse either, but that’s not the story. As I left with my partner, we noticed a hot dog vendor outside on the sidewalk.

“Kosher Hot Dogs,” it proclaimed on the red umbrella. My partner, being Jewish, is always looking for Kosher things.

“Ever have a Kosher hot dog?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. I have no idea what came over me next. I never buy food from street vendors, but suddenly, on impulse, I heard myself saying, “Wanna get one?”

So, there we were, on the parking lot of a hardware store buying hot dogs from a street vendor. I don’t even like hot dogs.

“Regular or Super?” asked the vendor.

“What’s the difference?” we asked, showing our hot dog ignorance.

“Super is twice as big!”

“Well, in that case, make it super.”

Those Kosher dogs were HUGE, on a large gourmet roll – not a regular size hot dog bun, and with all the fixings – mustard, onion, and sweet pickle relish for me.

“These are not like the ones you get at the ball park,” proclaimed the vendor. We were pleased to hear this as ballpark franks are not all they are cracked up to be.

“My hot dogs come all the way from Chicago,” said the vendor. We were properly impressed.

“But the price of gasoline is killing my business,” he confided. We were properly dismayed.

He wrapped the giant dogs in silvery paper and money was exchanged in the customary manner.

“Where do we eat them?” I asked my partner.

“Right here,” he said.

So there we were in the hot parking lot, dining out in the sun.

“I’ve finally become a full-fledged redneck,” I thought, eating hot dogs on a parking lot. Residing in Tennessee, I kinda figured the redneck transformation might happen some day.

But that was the most delicious hot dog I’ve ever eaten! It was large, plump and juicy, nothing at all like a regular hot dog. “This is GOOD!” I exclaimed!

“I told you that Kosher dogs were good,” replied my partner smugly. I think he was pleased with himself for being right for a change.

Now I can hardly wait for Saturday to go back to the Home Improvement Warehouse again. I sure hope that vendor is still there. If you want to eat out for lunch, I know the perfect spot. Bring your pickup truck and we can sit on the tailgate. A carton of RC might be good too, seeing as how we are admittedly doing this redneck style.

Copyright 2001 Sheila Moss