Big D's Dogs

As I was waiting for the Condom Sense on Lower Greenville Avenue to open so I could purchase a dildo (which I would later glue to a hat and use as an "I'm a Dickhead" punishment costume for anyone who showed up to my costume party in street clothes), I saw lunch. Big D's Dogs was about to change my definition of badass hot doggery. I had kind of figured that, because of all of the glowing reviews it has received, but I didn't know it was about to be cheap too. I was so prepared to pay top dollar for doggage that when I got my change, I thought they'd gotten my order wrong.

I ordered a Texas Frito Dog—which is a quarter-pound dog loaded up with Shiner chili, Fritos, cheddar and jalapeño relish—and a Coke. My total was $6.33. (And here's where I made a mistake and didn't even know it. I saw "Order Your Dog Country Style" on the menu after I ordered, and I asked the guy behind the counter what that meant. His answer: "Country Style means we deep-fry the hot dog bun." Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. That's like adding a rainbow made out of smiles and happiness onto an already existing rainbow.)

This hot dog was stupidly good. First off, I'm instantly grateful for Shiner chili. Big D's found a way to make my beer drinking and my chili eating into a one-stop experience. And then they added grilled jalapeño relish to the equation. It got really awkward in my brain when my memories of pickle relish showed up.

Midday. Enter two relishes, PICKLE and JALAPEÑO.

Grilled Jalapeño Relish: Hey, Pickle Relish!

Pickle Relish: Yeah?

Grilled Jalapeño Relish: Fuck you.

If I'd had room for a shake, I would have ordered one. But going into the bathroom and barfing just to make room would have been sacrilegious. So, fast before you head over there and order yourself a Cake Batter Shake. If you need help cheering yourself to meal victory, you can watch yourself eat using the mirror wall that takes up most of the place.