The Plight of a Hot Dog Vendor

THE DAY AFTER Thanksgiving a hot dog stand appeared on the streets of downtown Detroit, the first I'd seen since my return. It was situated on Woodward across from Campus Martius Park at the heart of the city; a perfect location, one would figure. Alone, as if on an island, there it sat; downtown's scantly-occupied towers as backdrop.

It was an enclosed kind of stand; a white box with a trailer hitch on front, and a small window which slid open. In truth I thought it was closed, abandoned from the day before. In the time I hung out in the area no one approached it. The person inside made not one sale. I glanced at the price list. Hot dogs were two dollars, more than I wanted to pay.

I noticed the stand again several days later, in exactly the same spot, as if it'd never left. This time there was a mark of occupancy. A hand lettered sign taped below the window announced, "HOT DOGS ONE DOLLAR." On sale.

I bought a couple. The window slid open, allowing in the cold. A heavily-dressed heavy-set woman who spoke with a Slavic accent worked furiously. A customer! Can't let this one go.

As I waited, a short black woman who'd been walking down the street glanced at me and the stand and decided to buy something also. A line. A rush! Things were looking up.

The next time I passed things were back to normal. No line. No customers at all.

An image flashed in my head of the hot dog vendors in downtown Philadelphia-- where I recently lived-- whose hands were filled with cash and who worked fast to keep up with the never-ceasing flow of business. Hot dogs! Cheesesteaks! Kielbasa! Meatball sandwich! Pretzels! With mustard! Soda!

In Detroit there was one hot dog stand and no one ever went up to it.

The next day, a larger sign; a plea; a cry for help: "OPEN."

Maybe with ice skating now at Campus Martius people will stop to buy hot dogs and keep the city's only outside hot dog stand afloat. One can hope.

PLEASE HELP DETROIT'S HOT DOG VENDOR! Thank you.