I've been on a serious junk food binge the last couple days. I left work the day before yesterday needing something sweet. I stopped at the Shell, no longer going to Circle K after witnessing a serious hygiene breach.
I decided to go for an old standby, the hostess cupcake twin pack (the threepack not being available). I decided to throw in some Reese's sticks for good measure. Then I saw the lonely Nathan's hotdog spinning around on the rack, probably had been there all day.
I took pity on the poor frankfurter, it deserved better and I thought it was my duty to liberate it from its spinning slumber. The attendant pointed me to the condiment rack, all sorts of things available, ketchup, relish, mayo, but no mustard.
F*ck it, I would go bareback, eat it dry.
Now I must tell you, I never eat this kind of crap, or hardly ever, have not eaten a gas station hot dog in thirty years but somehow, as I said, it was calling me.
The dog hit hard. Was not nearly as good as it was conceptually. I hid all the plastic evidence of my food sins before I walked in the door. My stomach started making some very strange noises as I sat on the couch. My wife asked me if I was okay and what I had eaten, and I, of course, said "nothing."
Anyhow, I recounted the story at coffee the next day and Joel, says "Why didn't you just pull a mustard out of your pocket?" which he proceeds to do.
And I'm like "Hey Monty Hall, how do you just happen to have a mustard in your pocket?"
Like who keeps mustard in their pocket?
It turns out he has it around in case he gets a charlie horse, the turmeric in mustard is supposed to get rid of it.
I learned something, props to Joel.
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