Continued from here.
So as I’m staring at this hot dog, which has suddenly gone silent, I paused to look around. Maybe I was on one of those prank shows. People always seem really happy that they’ve been busted on a prank show, even when they look like total assholes, and I guess it’s ’cause of moments like these. It would be so much better to find a recorder in the hot dog and look like an idiot on tv than the reality of actually talking to a talking hot dog.
But there are no camera crews, no Ashton Kutchers with his stupid trucker hats, just me, surrounded by a throng of business commuters.
I thought to throw out the hot dog, and then something felt off about that, so I took it back to my office, and just had it sitting on my desk, until Glinda, the lady I work for asked me to throw it out. Actually what she said was: “Uh, Peter! I can’t believe you can eat that stuff. It’s totally gross!” Which is her way of saying: get rid of it.
I started to hide it in my desk, but as I was opening the drawer, the hot dog “looked” at me, I mean, I could really feel it, and it said, softly:
-Why are you doing this to me?
And so I whispered back:
-Not now! Please, please, please don’t say anything.
-Peter, I’ve got feel-
and then I put my hand on the hot dog, and excused myself to the bathroom.
We were in the last stall of the mens room, which I’ve gotta say, is pretty nice. I mean, they have a velvet curtain in front of the urinals! That seems a bit extreme, but I guess if you want to project an image of power, using expensive fabrics to get your pee spatter on is a good start.
As I was saying, we were in the last stall and at this point, I’m practically flop sweating. I know this may sound funny, like some sort of Jim Carrey movie, but when you start hearing hot dogs talk to you at work, it is scary. Terrifying really. So after I locked the stall, I lifted the napkin off of it’s, I want to say face, and started to freak out.
-What do you want from me?!
-Peter, I don’t want…well…(sigh)…I just want to be with you I guess.
-Are you crazy?! You’re a hot dog!
-But you said you loved me!
-To eat! I loved that I was going to eat you!
-I know.
-And you are okay with that?
-Of course not. But when you love someone, things get cloudy. Can I tell you something morbid?
-Um…
-When you bit me, I got kind of…turned on. Is that weird?
-YES! YES that is WEIRD! I was eating you!
-But you didn’t swallow.
-Because you started talking!
-I don’t know Peter, I…I just know how I feel. It might not be rational, but I don’t think we should overlook what’s happening. You felt something and so did I.
-Do you realize what you are saying!?
-I want to have a rela-
-SHUT UP!
-Do NOT tell me to shut up! This is very hard to say for me!
And for a second it was silent. I felt horrible, really guilty. Not for eating or, attempting to eat, what seems to be a sentient being, but for being insensitive. When I was in high school I had to have a talk like this once with my best friend at the time. And I remember the hardest part about saying that I really loved her, in a romantic way, was that I didn’t feel like I was being heard. So to muster up the courage to say all that, well…this hot dog had guts.
Then suddenly, very quietly I can hear tears, or the sound of choking back tears.
-Are you crying?
-Yes! I have feelings! It may be hard for you to deal with but what I feel is very real. I want to be with you.
-We hardly even know each other!
-But that’s besides the point. I knew the minute you purchased me from that vendor, that we were made to be together. I don’t know how or why, but that much is clear. You…Listen, I’m not a romantic, ok, and I never believed at love at first bite, I know it’s crazy. But I have never felt about anything, the way I feel about you.
-But don’t you realize how crazy this is?
-Yes, of course, but I’m willing to make that leap. I don’t think people, or hot dogs, should be calous with their feelings. If something moves you, you just go for it.
-But, hot dog, you realize that we were never designed to be together. I mean. I want things, a family, kids, and that just can’t happen with us.
And the hot dog was suddenly very silent, almost as if jolted by what I said. The door to the bathroom opened, and by the heavy set click clock of the shoes I could tell it was Martin from Accounts. He tried to come into our stall, which, admittedly is the nicest of all of the stalls, really roomy, truth be told, practically bigger than my roommates bedroom. But she has a thing about space. That’s beside the point. Anyway, I scream out: “Occupied!” And Martin, I guess was startled, so he mumbled something like “sorry” and just left.
So know I’m sitting on the toilet with the lid down, letting all of this stuff wash over me, and the hot dog says:
-We can adopt.
Like it’s been thinking this whole time about how to make things work, while some fat fuck was trying to come in and take a shit. And I gotta be honest, a part of me was really touched. All the girls I’ve dated lately, they just seem like they only want to fool around, or are too intent on having careers to want to start families, or atleast anytime soon, which is part and parcel of being in your 20′s I guess. So hearing that level of interest, it really got me. I put my head down, and took a deep breath. As I sat on the toilet, I knew this one thing to be true: I was gonna be there for awhile.
continued tomorrow (2.26.10)
Update! Continued Here!
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