It was New Years Eve, and we had partied like it was 1999. My girls and I had finally stumbled our way onto the MAX (Portland Transit) and were headed home. When I say finally, I mean finally, but that is a different story for a different day. The fact is, we got there. We had stopped by Voodoo Donuts before boarding, so our drunk munchies were satisfied.. Or so we thought. All of a sudden, our friend Jenn is standing on the seats shrieking "I will blow someone for a hotdog." Clearly, there were many takers, but we assured her that they didn't have the kind of hotdog she was looking for. Despite this being one of my all-time favorite stories, there is a point to my rambling. The other night, I finally understood. I finally understood that urge. The urge that you would do anything to satisfy. I finally got it.
It was about 2:00am on Saturday night. I had gone out with a slew of college friends and had an absolute blast. I drank way too much and had decided early in the evening that I would end the night with a Seattle Dog (cream cheese on a hotdog.... I live for that shit). Well, our last stop of the night was about 5 blocks past my beloved hotdog guy. No problem, I would just stumble back and snag one before crawling into a cab. Here is where the night took a turn. My friend Jen (different Jen, fyi) convinced me to stay at her place. I got distracted by her Chinese food offer and agreed... Somehow forgetting about the hotdog. I have to be honest, the Chinese food was good, but it was no hotdog... Plus, Cole at all my shrimps. HELLO! I wanted those. I reluctantly went to bed sans hotdog, but I promised myself I swoop one up from 7-11 the next morning.
Fast forward to the 8:00am the following day... I felt like absolute garbage and was wearing the same clothes from the night before, but I was bound and determined to get my mouth on a shameless 7-11 treat. I walk in looking like a train wreck and I overhear a woman going batshit on the cashier. After additional investigation (and a whole lot of eavesdropping) I discovered her issue. THE FUCKING HOTDOG MACHINE WASN'T WORKING! Okay, NO! This cannot be happening. I grabbed some Ramen and a two liter of Sprite and went home to sulk (and sleep for 3 hours).
It is days later and I still haven't gotten my damn hotdog. FML.
It was about 2:00am on Saturday night. I had gone out with a slew of college friends and had an absolute blast. I drank way too much and had decided early in the evening that I would end the night with a Seattle Dog (cream cheese on a hotdog.... I live for that shit). Well, our last stop of the night was about 5 blocks past my beloved hotdog guy. No problem, I would just stumble back and snag one before crawling into a cab. Here is where the night took a turn. My friend Jen (different Jen, fyi) convinced me to stay at her place. I got distracted by her Chinese food offer and agreed... Somehow forgetting about the hotdog. I have to be honest, the Chinese food was good, but it was no hotdog... Plus, Cole at all my shrimps. HELLO! I wanted those. I reluctantly went to bed sans hotdog, but I promised myself I swoop one up from 7-11 the next morning.
Fast forward to the 8:00am the following day... I felt like absolute garbage and was wearing the same clothes from the night before, but I was bound and determined to get my mouth on a shameless 7-11 treat. I walk in looking like a train wreck and I overhear a woman going batshit on the cashier. After additional investigation (and a whole lot of eavesdropping) I discovered her issue. THE FUCKING HOTDOG MACHINE WASN'T WORKING! Okay, NO! This cannot be happening. I grabbed some Ramen and a two liter of Sprite and went home to sulk (and sleep for 3 hours).
It is days later and I still haven't gotten my damn hotdog. FML.
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