While walking through a local Target doing my “glamorous” mom life thing, I heard a vendor joking with Target workers about eating “death dogs” and I was immediately transported in time to my college days. . .
I have lived in several different income brackets from wealthy to poverty levels. I will have to admit the “poorest” I’d ever been was while in college. I was on a scholarship with a heavy class load that did not allow for much income producing activities. I was too stubborn to ask my parents for money (not that they could afford it) so I either did without or made some really poor choices in food consumption.
The scariest and riskiest venture for me was the eating of gas station hot dogs we lovingly called DEATH DOGS.
When you have so little money that a taco from Taco Bell is a treat, you know you are broke! I literally would check the couches on every floor of my dorm for lost change. Once I had at least $1.00 I knew lunch was now possible. Sometimes three of us would pool our change and buy the 3 for $1.00 hot dog deal at the local Shell station. Do you know how cheap these hot dogs have to be to be 33 cents each? STILL, it was food and it would fill our stomachs.
The key to getting your $1.00 worth was to pile on the toppings. This one particular station had slaw AND chili for no extra cost. COME ON – that was a deal! My hotdog was so piled with chili and slaw that I had to use a fork to eat it. The gas station cashier never gave us a hard time about it. I’m pretty sure if we had asked he would have given it to us free. I know it’s sad but I never had to ask for money and my grade point average did not take a hit. The only reason we did not die was the fact that alcohol probably killed any parasites or bacteria we ingested.
It is funny how a overheard phrase, a snippet of music or even a smell can take you right back to a place in the past. Even at age 54 if I smell any sort of fried dough in a deep fat fryer it takes me back to my Korean childhood and the neighborhood lady selling Korean “corn dogs”. . .but that’s for another post.