Wednesday, June 21, 2006
I'm Not Made of Stone
Tonight I had a quick rehearsal in NYC, to prepare a number for the Thowmbpsin wedding, and on my way over to Mr. Thowmbpsin's studio I realized I needed to address a nagging hunger.
I walked by a string of crappy-looking eateries on my way. Nope, nope, nope. I noticed a new Japanese fast food franchise, the kind where a home office sends its restaurants glossy mass-produced posters with an unrealistic close-up photograph of some horrible new dish, much like McDonald's does. No, I don't think I want chicken teriyaki that was originally prepared a thousand or more miles away, especially if it has a goofy, smacking-of-desperation name like "Samurai Chicken."
But then, with my options narrowing and time running out, I found the right kind of trashy fast food: the chili dog! Perfect.
Chili dog? What chili dog?