Hot Dog Cart

This is a «go-​to» cart on the north boundary of Soho; located in a hugely strategic location. You come out of a 10pm movie at FilmForum over on Varick/​Houston and to catch the X27 bus back to Brooklyn, is a bit of a trudge. You slowly wend your way down the shadows of W. Houston across to Broadway; legging it through the random ricocheting idiots (idiots because they don’t know how to stay in their ‘sidewalk lanes’) and keeping an eye out for skeevs and skels.
Right before you turn down Broadway (which is practically dead of eateries in this stretch – its almost all clothing stores and useless chain coffee shops) you want some quick hot grub down your gullet before another 10 minute hoof down to Canal where the x27 stops.
So W. Houston & Broadway. PRIME location. That’s the situation. On a frigid night a hot meal can be a godsend as you may stand waiting for the xpress bus a while. So here is this dinky little no-​name hot dog cart. Its open late; and you’re very low on dough. But, lo-​and-​behold: this guy is has $ 1 dollar, dirty-​water dogs. You heard right! One DOLLAR. He will wrangle them up for you faster’n you can say jack– rabbit. Hot and good; with decent, airy, squishy buns.
Now here’s the only downside. Foreign guy obviously, from Back-​of-​yer-​Ass-​is-​Tan on the other side of the globe. Halfway competent; enthusiastic about life; and not trying to cheat you. But here’s what happened to me one time:
«Two dogs please»
«ah yessir. Comingk right away. I have zem for you sir»
«Great. Here – » I put down two $ 1 bills and wait.
«Toppingz, sir?
„Yes, please! Mustard, onions, sauerkraut, and relish please“
„Oh sir, I have no sauerkraut I sorry“
„Really? Um, okay no kraut. Just mustard, onions, relish. Thanks“
He starts topping my dogs and wrapping them up. But I’m watching closely.
„Mustard, sir“
„Yes!“
“Onions, sir»
«Yep! Great!»
He starts wrapping them up.
«Relish too, please!»
«Sir?»
“Relish, please – «
I really like relish on my hot dogs.
He looks at me bewilderedly. I glare back, perturbed.
«RELISH! You know!»
«Sir?»
And now western civilization totally breaks down because not only does he NOT HAVE relish; it becomes clear that he doesn’t even know what relish is. What possible country in the world has no knowledge of pickle relish? How can a guy running a HOT DOG CART not know what pickle relish is? What did he think I was saying when I used the word repeatedly in my order?
This is all kinds of unfathomable. How could I be the first guy bringing this ingredient to his attention? And isn’t lack of proper food-​cart training a violation of some kind of city ordinance?
I walk away, eyes glazed, astounded. Only in New York, folks – only in New York!
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