Woofer: Hot Dog
Saturday, August 17th, 2013
“Sure,” I said, sliding to the end of the park bench.
I had just started eating my cheeseburger that I got from a vendor at the park. All the other benches were taken and I had no problem sharing mine.
“I am Kosimali and this is my cousin Rustam,” said the taller of the two fellows. “We are from Uzbekistan. Today for us is first day in Belize.”
“Today we try food in Belize,” Rustam said. “What is best in park?”
“The pupusa is great,” I said.
“Oh, no!” Kosimali said. “We no eat poopoo.”
“You don’t understand,” I said, “Pupusa is a tasty dish from El Salvador. It has cheese and …”
“No! No poopoo,” Rustam said.
“Try the burrito.”
“What means this word?” Kosimali asked, suspiciously. “I think burro is donkey. Burrito would mean little donkey.”
“No donkey! No donkey,” his cousin said. “We no eat donkey. In Uzbekistan we ride donkey. ”
“How about a hot dog?” I asked.
“Ah, yes,” Kosimali said,. “I get hot dog for us.”
He went over to the stand and ordered his hot dogs. A few minutes later the lady called him to come get them
“A hot dog for you, Rustam,” he said, as he gave one of them to his cousin.
Rustam opened it and quickly rolled it back up in the foil.
“Kosimali,” he said. “What part of dog you get?”
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