"Canteens?" he asked.
"No, it doesn't matter what age," I replied.
Cremation.
He picks up the ketchup bottle, glances at it and gives a hearty chuckle before slathering his brat in ketchup.
Puzzled, the woman watches as the next customer, a young girl, walks up to order her hot dog.
As she takes the container of relish, she bursts into a fit of giggles and walks off with her food, still laughing merrily.
A middle-aged man steps up next. Shoveling sauerkraut onto his hot dog, he laughs uproariously and walks away grinning.
When she reaches the front of the line, the woman asks the hot dog vendor,
“Excuse me, sir, but why does everyone laugh when they get their hot dogs?”
“It’s simple, ma’am.” he says, handing her a piping-hot sausage. “I’m surprised you haven’t discovered for yourself.”
Glancing at the mustard, the woman lets loose a peal of laughter.
“Ya see, ma’am? The real_joke’s always in the condiments!"
Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.
To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.
I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.
Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.
You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.
The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.
The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.
Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.
Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.
But so far, I've quit cold turkey.
I was telling the kids about a cat I had when was their age and how she loved Tandoori chicken. I explained that when we used to order in Indian food she would sit on the arm of the sofa waiting for someone to bring a chicken leg up to their mouth and then, quick as a flash, swipe it out of their hand and run off with it.
Quick as a flash, my boy said "Well, it WAS a takeaway"
So proud....
This isn't a joke that came from a dad or anything but I hope it's worthy!
My father started waiting in 1979 and took one of his first jobs at this extremely fancy and expensive restaurant. The type of place that the waiters wore tuxedos and whatnot. Anyways my dad worked with this guy named Froggy (nickname of course) whom my dad still praises to this day that he's one of the best waiters he's ever worked with.
Anyways, one night it's extremely busy and both my father and Froggy were rushing around trying to keep up. Well Froggy had this table with about 5-7 people all who looked like they wore expensive clothing, ordered the best food and so on. Well one of the guys ordered a baked potato as a side and Froggy proceeds with typical waiter stuff as asks if he wanted sour cream with his baked potato. The man says yes so Froggy scoops the cream and attempts to place it on the potato. Well... as he was moving to place it on, the cream slipped off and right onto this guys extremely expensive sweater... Completely in shock, the customer turns to Froggy and without missing a beat, Froggy slowly turns his head in a comical fashion towards the ceiling and proclaims "Those damn pigeons!"
Needless to say every single person in that table were crying with laughter, including my father one table over who observed the whole ordeal. Froggy said he'd pay for the dry cleaning and the customer said not to worry about it because it was the most hilarious thing he's seen in ages.
"Canteens?" he asked.
"No, it doesn't matter what age," I replied.
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