Da Beef

A truck driver appeared at the cart as I was checking on the water levels in the bun bin.  He asked for one “chicago” dog.  I asked what he wanted on that dog and he said “everything, of course”.  As I handed him his dog he asked for a coke.  When I turned to get the coke I could see a young woman reviewing the menu.  She looked intently at the menu and said “everything is so expense these days”.  

The truck driver glanced at the woman and said  ”do you want a hot dog?  go ahead and order one.  I’m buying.”  

The look of surprise and delight on the young woman’s face was awe-inspiring.  She, and I, were totally amazed by the gentleman’s generosity.  He then handed me the money for two dogs and a coke.

For one split second I thought he would hang around and start talking to the young woman but I was wrong.   After he paid for the dogs he turned to the woman and said “enjoy!!” and quickly returned to his truck.

I turned and said to the young woman “what would you like on your hot dog”.  She smiled brightly and said “I’d like everything on it”.

It’s this kind of experience that restores my faith in humanity.  There are quite a few good people out there!  And one of them is a truck driver in San Francisco.

I forgot what cold is like.  Not chilly, not frozen, but cold; cold to the bone.  The kind of cold that stays with you hours after you’re inside a nice warm place.

I didn’t know that San Francisco could be this cold.  Some may not say it is so but when you are outside in 40 windy degrees for many hours it gets really really cold.  

Having spent the past six years living in San Diego the blood thins.  And you would think that living in Chicago for many many years one would be familiar with cold weather but…. nope.

One good thing I got from many years of Chicago winters is the art of bundling up in layers.  I’ll need to go shopping for some thermal clothing, a few turtle necks, thicker socks and a warmer hat.

In San Francisco the homeless are part of the community.  The amount of people that are homeless here is something a midwesterner has to acclimate into.  At first its heartbreaking, but then there are times its overwhelming.

Take, for instance, yesterday’s occurrence at the cart.  I was sitting off to the side taking care of some paper work while Nats served a hot dog to a women and her dog when a tall man come up to the cart.  I saw Nats tilt her head to the left and then say I’m sorry and shake her head side to side to say no.  I couldn’t hear what was being said but I could see the man continue to talk while a new customer walked up to place an order.   Nat’s attention was now on the new customer but the man did not walk away.  As a matter of fact he was standing very close to Nats.  I watched while the new customer ordered a bottle of water.

I could see the man turn his head and say something to the young lady who just ordered.  At that point I stood up and walked over to the man.

Being born and raised on the south side of Chicago brings with it, at times, a bit of …. what’s another word for “don’t take no sh–” attitude.  To me this man had stepped over the line by not taking “no” for an answer.

As I got closer to the cart I could hear the young lady say “no, I’m sorry”.  The man did not let up.  He was about to again ask for something from the young lady when I asked for  his attention.  

“Is there something I could help you with?”  I said in a volume slightly louder than normal.  He turned to me, not moving from his spot, and asked “yeah, could you give me something to eat or spare some money”?  I said “No, I’m sorry.”  He started to say something but at that point I didn’t want to hear it.  He wasn’t taking no for an answer.

I told him he would have to leave.  He mumbled something and turned to approach the women and her dog sitting at our bench eating her hot dog.  As he began asking the women for something I moved in his path and told him “No, you can’t harass our customers.  You have to leave.”  He then started to say something to the fact that he was just looking for …..”  I told him “If you don’t leave I’ll call the police.”  

He came back with “I’m not doing anything wrong.”  I said “You are harassing us!  If you don’t leave I’ll call the police.”

He strolled off mumbling obscenities.

I give to homeless when I can but when someone doesn’t let up it gets very frustrating.

It fascinates and delights me how people take pictures of our hot dog cart. Although, being a shutter bug myself, this really shouldn’t surprise me at all.

It was a chilly sunny day today and as I observed a young, fashionably dressed man heading toward the cart I could see a slight grin in between his toke on a cigarette. I wasn’t quite sure if he was going to stop at the cart, but fortunately he did.

He said “Oh I love your cart. I’m from Chicago and my father owned a cart too.”

The young man ordered a polish sausage and sat down at the bench and enjoyed his taste of hometown Chicago. Another customer walked up and as I turned around to help get his order together I noticed that the young gentleman from Chicago started taking many pictures. He smiled and said he was going to send them to his dad back in Chicago.

I would love to have seen the pics he took and the expression on his dad’s face.

It was towards the end of our business day on a Friday.  I happened to be several yards from the cart but could see two young women walk up with big smiles.  Nats was at the cart ready to serve a hog dog or two, then after they placed their order I observed one of the girls walk a few feet toward the curb with a camera while the other stood smiling happily next to the “Da Beef” sign.  This made me smile.  Another snap shot and their hot dogs were ready. 

I could see that while the pictures were being taken Nats was creating another tasty hog dog experience and was unaware of the photo shoot taking place.

I walked up to the cart and mentioned to Nats how I felt it was so cool to see the girls taking pictures next to our sign.  I had guessed they were on their way to a bachelorette party.  I was wrong.  Nats explained to me that one of the girls mentioned  she was on her way to get married and was only allowing herself one meal before tying the knot.  She was looking forward to enjoying our Chicago Style hot dogs.

How awesome it is that the Chicago hot dog is a food option for a special occasion!  Rock On San Francisco.

Each day is an adventure at the “Chicago Style” hot dog cart.  I never know what to expect and I guess that’s why I love it.

Since opening the cart a few months ago my business partner and I have had a number of fascinating experiences that we would like to share.  This blog’s purpose is not only to share stories but to help my feeble brain remember some of the interesting occurrences at “the cart”.