HOT DOG
(from "moment of silence")
I was in a hot dog restaurant. I ordered a hot dog. The chef, coincedently, happened to be the proprietor. He was watching "Jeopardy" on the T.V. and he was answering the questions out loud before the contestants could. I watched him put the dog on the grill and poke and prod at it with his spatula. I watched the sausage and listened to the jeopardy answers.
"What are breast implants?"
sizzle
"What was The Great Divorce?"
sizzle
The sausage pulsated as it got hotter. The sizzling became slightly more violent and the dog moved around in its own juices on the grill. It looked like it was done, but Jeopardy-hot-dog-guy made no effort to take it off the grill. He kept poking and prodding. I let him do his job. It seemed like he knew what I was doing. He was staring intently at the hot dog and answering Jeopardy questions.
The hot dog kept sizzling as it was poked and prodded and it started to grow a bit blackened and crisp. It started writhing and wriggling as if it were trying to fly away.
The Jeopardy-hot-dog-guy flipped the sausage in the air but it didn't land. It stayed hovering about two inches off the grill. He slid a bun underneath it and asked me what I like on my hot dogs. I replied that I liked everything. He put everything on the hot dog but it didn't seem to weigh it down. He picked it up and dropped it on the counter in front of me. It stopped two inches before the counter and hovered there.
I looked at it for a while until he asked for a buck seventy five. I payed. I looked at the hot dog. I was hungry. It was spicy.
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