“I’ll have a jumbo dog with everything.” I said to the gal behind the counter. Judging by all the photos and awards on the wall, I was in a good place for hotdogs, so I thought I’d go big
“Whaddya mean everythang?” asked the clerk, Joe’s Dog House buttons a-glimmering on her red apron.
“Ya know. All the things.”
“You mean you want your garlic and your bananas and your peanut butter and everythang?”
“Well then just choose one of the options up there.” Her hand swung upwards indicating the menu. I had seen it, but it hadn’t sunk in.
“Oh… well I’ll have the all American. Jumbo. And tots”
“Sweet potato tots?”
Soon my name was called and I felt both the thrill of a new meal and regret. The thing was a an eighteen inch hotdog served on a baguette, heaping with bbq pulled pork and coleslaw. My partner got something similar, though wrapped with bacon, deep fried, and runny with cheese sauce.
“Oops.” said he, as we retrieved our jumbo dogs. We both figured ‘Jumbo’ was merely a gimmicky modifier used to draw in hungry hotdog lovers. Yet it was all true.