Then it happened

It was Wednesday.  I had worked, drove home and began thinking about the evening of roller skating that was going to become actualized in only a matter of hours.  That was when I had gotten hungry.  Shelly called us and we negotiated going to Wakadog.

 

Wakadog is a Hot Dog place in down town Mishawaka.  It went into the store front more recently owned and maintained by Spooners.  It’s much nicer on the inside when compared to most other shops in the area, I think the Spooner people had it redone.  Keely and I arrived slightly before Shelly and the girls.  Keely noticed a poster on the wall advertising a contest.  We ordered our food which arrived at our table just as Shelly was getting there.  As we ate Keely brought the contest to Shelly’s attention. 

 

A long pause, a few whispers of “What?” and then a sudden deep inhale.  “You have to do this!” she said looking me in the eye with her own eyes open well past their comfort zone with excitement.  It was a Hot Dog eating contest, sponsored by Wakadog after the Memorial Day parade.  The sign boasted ten contestants will compete for the prize of one free lunch a week for the next six months.  I was hesitant.  We finished our meals, wrestled to keep the children in line and then left. 

 

On the way back to the cars Shelly wouldn’t drop it, Keely didn’t have any opposition to it and so the guilt trip/peer pressure onslaught began.  I parked the car in the alley and walked back inside.  I made my way through the tables to the counter and asked the owner (who is also the server most of the time) how I could become involved.  I was pretty sure opportunities like this normally resulted in everyone jumping in before I have a chance.  She passed me a yellow sheet of lined paper, which I expected to see eight or nine or (in my best case scenario) all ten spots filled in.  The page had one name at the top.  Someone named Mike, that I am presumably going to meet on Memorial Day after the Parade as I am now the second contestant signed up for the eating competition.  She told me to print and sign my name and write down my phone number.  There will also be a release form that I need to sign, more than likely at the time of the competition.  I can only guess it releases them for the responsibility for, and condition of my health after said competition with (I am certain) a no fault clause for my accidental death.  That reminds me I need to make sure my wife is my beneficiary.  I wonder if I die in the competition, but win the prize, if that is transferable?

 

Now I’m debating advertising this event on myspace, facebook, twitter, tmbo and where ever else I can think of, for a few reasons.  I don’t know if I can win, I don’t know how much of an ass I’m going to make myself and I’m not sure who I want to see that.  I’m thinking I’m going to go for the gold and that can be pretty ugly as I have seen on television.

 

Years ago I had watched a documentary about competitive eating.  Shelly had seen it too.  There are two rules of competitive eating…1.  Push Past and 2. Don’t Die.  Knowing this, feels like half the battle but come Memorial Day we shall see.