Sunday, April 15, 2012

Every girl needs a hotdog boyfriend

Really, it's not as dirty as it sounds. 

I have written before about my close proximity to Spike's Junkyard Dogs in Allston. When looking at apartments, I remember noting it in the "pros" column that I would be living near a place where I could procure a hotdog after midnight. Is the neighborhood quiet and safe? Eh, ish...BUT HOTDOGS LATE NIGHT?  Sold. 

But aside from being a regular patron, I have a special bond with Spike's. Or rather, one particular employee of Spike's. I jokingly refer to him as "my hotdog boyfriend" but really, it's not a joke. What else would you call a hotdog salesman who calls you by name and gives you free fries occasionally?

I know his name, too: John. He was actually one of the first people I met after moving to Boston. I moved a whole month before my grad program started and it was a fascinating experience because I got to see what it would be like to have no friends. I don't really recommend it.  But I did get very comfortable chatting up strangers in bars just out of sheer raging loneliness. 

So a day or so after settling into my studio in Allston, I ventured out to lunch. To Spike's. And John instantly pegged me as a newcomer to the area. He commented on what I was wearing and said something like, "You don't look like you're from here." I told him I had just moved from Brooklyn. "Well, you look very New York," he said.  I took this both as an insult and a compliment. 

And so our relationship blossomed. We have discussed everything from the novels of Charles Dickens and Obama to our various sleep disorders (he's an insomniac, I tend to oversleep whenever possible) and hot sauce preferences (me: Sriracha; him: Cholula). Once, I drunkenly invited him to come to my a cappella concert in Cambridge and he actually showed up. My friends were like, "How do you know that guy?" And I was like "He sells me hotdogs late at night."

You might wonder if our hotdog romance ever became a real romance. The answer is no. I think at one point he might have asked for my number and out of awkwardness, I gave it to him and he texted me once and I didn't write back and then we never spoke of it again. Because as nice as he is, I like the dynamic of our relationship as is, that of hotdog seller and hotdog consumer.  

It's been 4 years and a lot of hotdogs and curly fries. When I move to Chicago this summer, I will miss John. Fortunately, I am moving to a place famous for their hotdog culture. A total coincidence? Perhaps not. 

(Yes, major disclosure slipped in there -- I am moving back to the Midwest! A post about this is forthcoming)

1 comment:

SFB said...

Ok, two things to say:

1. When you visit next week we are going to Ditch Plains and getting Ditch Dogs (hot dogs with mac and cheese on top of them!). and

2. When in Chicago we are going to Super Dawg!