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Hot Dog

$2 ain’t bad

Hot Dogs as of July 2006

So far this summer, I’ve been a little bit of everywhere. In late May, I was in New York City for the Paulist Fathers’ Pre-Assembly. In June, I drove to Bapchule, AZ for Camp Bapchule.

While I was in New York City, my mind was fixed on one subject. Hot Dogs. Since it is NYC, I figure I have to get a dog out of a street vendor’s cart. This task was well, pretty easy. I start out on Saturday morning at the Today Show. I made a little screen time and started the search. Since it was 8 a.m., there was not a hot dog to be found. I continue sight-seeing throughout the city and found my way at the World Trade Center site.

After exploring St. Paul’s Chapel, I discovered a street vendor selling hot dogs right outside. I laid down $2 and took a bite. They weren’t bad at all. I enjoyed it actually.

I finish the hot dog and look up at the subway station I had emerged from not long before. It is also a PATH station. Wait a second, I tell myself. I thought I saw something about Newark on the PATH side of the station before stepping out. I look and yes! The PATH goes to New Jersey! After more investigation, I found that they run on a very regular schedule and are actually cheaper than NYC subways! I couldn’t say no to this. I ride the train to Newark.
I arrive it what appears to be the Newark version of Grand Central Station. When I started the trip, I didn’t think about where I would find a hot dog. I find my way to the concourse and lo and behold, there is a shop in the food court that sells various forms of hot dogs. It was beautiful. One trip, one day, two states.

Fast-forward a month. Picture it. Four friends with a common mission- to get me a hot dog in New Mexico. Actually, we were going to run a mission trip, but that was just a cover for the hot dog.
We drive through a random city. We exit onto Business I-10. We look for a place that would sell a hot dog. We look and look. There’s nothing. Sadness begins to set in when out from behind some trees emerged a beautiful sight. Sonic! Sonic has saved me in the past, in Oklahoma, but they come through again in New Mexico. We quickly pull in and after a strawberry limeaid and a hot dog, I realize that the entire trip was worth it.

By Brandon Kraft

My life is an open-source book.

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