Well. Last night I went to the legendary Crif Dogs around midnight. Um. I kind of can’t believe I ate a hot dog that was wrapped in bacon and THEN doused with avocados and sour cream. It was the first time in my life that I’ve ever enjoyed anything called a Chihuahua. It was…pretty epic. I had a bite of Marc’s corn dog…dude. I don’t even like corn dogs. But this tasted like a hot dog wrapped in a magical pancake. Leslie also insisted that we order chili cheese tater tots. I really should never eat again.
So Crif Dogs has this phone booth that takes you into a secret club, which is pretty amusing. It’s so entertaining to watch party-goers pile into the tiny booth, pick up the phone, say the password, and either have the secret door open or walk back out of the booth dejected. I guess it’s like San Francisco’s Bourbon and Branch, where you need to call and get the password in advance, except that their website is much less forthcoming. There was this drunk girl sitting next to us who was like, “YEAH, I TOTALLY DIDN’T KNOW THE PASSWORD, SO THEY WOULDN’T LET ME IN. LAAAAAAAAAME.” I’m thinking, whatever, you can get PBR and play Centipede in here. I know, I’m so classy. And I didn’t actually get a PBR or play Centipede. But I liked that they were options.
**I didn’t take the picture, but I ate a dog that looked roughly like the one on the left.
