“Day One” by Dan Grossman

Day One

I walked into the Circle K at the Indy Airport after a long day of Uber driving and approached the glistening hot dogs. I was salivating. The sign under the rollers said, “All Beef,” as if that would matter during my next colonoscopy. I was about to head to the adjacent Subway, to choose something healthier, when one of the wieners stood up. He shuffled out onto the counter near the mustard packs and opened his tiny little mouth. “Oh driver, who’s been on the road so long,” he sang in a Sting-like tenor, “please listen to my siren song.” He then proceeded, in a regular speaking voice, to recount the story of his birth in a vat full of boiling beef trimmings. “It’s true I might be less healthy than Subway,” he continued, “but I’m more eco-friendly. And anyway, someone needs to eat the end products of industrial food production.” I agreed. I set the hot dog on the bun, and spread mustard and relish on the wiener’s naked skin. “I know your trash thoughts,” he moaned, trembling. “Take me in your mouth.” Curiously, the Circle K clerk didn’t seem to notice my hotdog’s spasms as I paid the $1.50 with my debit card. Outside the front door, in the cool November air, I bit down on my hot dog friend.  At once came the rush of salt and spices, the squirting juices, and the sweet softness of the bun. In my life as a rollerfoodie, it was day one. 

This poem is part of Dan Grossman’s collection Mindfucking Roundabouts of Carmel, Indiana: Poetry and Short Prose. Dan will sign books at Tomorrow Bookstore on Saturday, August 5, from 11am-1pm.