Dad has for years wanted to go to the Roanoke Weiner Stand. However, no one would accompany him, and he is loathe to eat tube steaks alone, especially in a town where he is only a guest.
But in April of 2005, a scion was delivered. One who would not remember a day that he did not want to go to hot dog restaurants. One who, as soon as he could sit on a swivelly barstool by himself, would accompany his father hither and yon to roadside eateries, kiosks, taco trucks, and above all, restaurants solely dedicated to America's favorite hot beef injection - the hot dog.
So, yesterday, Barritt joined Dad at the R.W.S.
It wasn't very good. But that isn't even really the point. The point is that he located himself in history, becoming one of the thousands served in the half century the Roanoke Weiner Stand has existed. And from what we judged, he might have even experienced one of the RWS's last days - if the Health Dept. has anything to say about it.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
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3 comments:
gross.
What is that, corn?
Long live the Roanoke Weiner Stand!
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