This story is a stop on my latest travels which took me back to Chicago and then on to San Francisco. Two of my favorite cities where I put down a multitude of pork related items. I'll break this globe trot into a coupla posts.
Let me start by saying "God Bless The Wiener's Circle." It's not because I had a staggeringly great dog, or that it had some kind of glorious dining space. It was because that's how they answered my question.
Back up to 12 in the AM and buddies Farley Bookout, Steve Walters, Jay Ryan and Bobby Dixon and myself are leaving Pitchfork and heading home. I says "we should get a dog." Farley says "Again?" So I whipped out my trusty internet portal and looked up hot dog joints. Lookee there, The Wiener's Circle is on the way. Jay says "Call and see if they are open"
Me: "Hi, what time do you close?"
WC: "What The Fuck Kinda Question Is That?" "5AM Motherfucker!" "Fuck You Bitch!" *click*
Me: "We're going to The Wiener's Circle."
As soon as I got off the phone it dawned on me where we were heading. The hot dog place most famous for cussin' your ass for anything and nothing. At midnight it was pretty packed but they were moving people through the line quicklike. I stepped up ready to order a red hot and a double char wondering if I'd get cussed. "Which char motherfucker?" I got cussed, again. I got off way easier than the gal behind me who tried to pay with a credit card. "Cash only bitch! Cash only motherfucker!" as they shooed her away from the window flappin' a towel. That's also all the time they needed to toss my order in the window zippity-doo.
A Vienna red hot and a double chardog with the works:
This was on the counter. You bet your sweet ass I put money towards the cause.