Yes, it's still spring, for a couple more weeks, and you would have known it if you'd been here yesterday, when the outdoor temp dipped so low it kicked the heat on in. That was not the kind of thing we want in June—but this is. Today. Sunny and seventy.
I walked downtown to look for the hot dog guy. The hot dog guy, on days like today and into the summer, sells street-quality franks with street-quality chili, kraut, and various other embellishments, adding up to an excellent streety snack. Or lunch. Depending on the time of day.
Today he was down at the other end of town. He moves around like that, from one end to another. The other end of town is only three blocks away but it seemed like too much work to walk that far. Instead, I walked home by a route I usually don’t take and came to Pete’s.
Pete’s is a picnic-tableish fish place, the kind where you give them your order at the counter and they shout out your name when it’s ready. Wednesday, it seems, the special is a shrimp boat. The boat part of the shrimp boat is one of those cardboard containers I associate with deli counters and old-fashioned butchers, and by volume (and weight) it really should be called a French Fry boat.
It was more than I wanted to spend and more than I wanted to eat for lunch. But it’s spring.
And I deducted for the hot dog I missed, so it wasn’t that bad.
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