Stand Up And Eat

It's always a great feeling when your kid thinks you're cool. As "Daughter" gets older, those moments get further apart, but today we got to share one. I got to show "Daughter" the unique joy of eating while standing up at a hot dog stand. This may seem boring to you, but to a little kid who is always being told to sit up straight, mind her manners and chew with her mouth closed, the chance to cut loose while dining is a big deal.

I became aware of stand up dining when I went to high school. I was a suburban kid who was used to eating at restaurants or fast food chains all while sitting on my ever widening back end. Then in their infinite wisdom, my parents sent me to school in the big city. I discovered a whole new world of dining options. There were pizza joints, sandwich shops and hot dog stands that, because of the high cost of real estate, didn't have places to sit. I thought this was great. It seemed very manly to me to just walk up, order a tasty morsel, and hammer it down on the spot. There seemed to be a gastronomic camaraderie to rubbing elbows with other patrons while beef juice or mustard dripped down your arm. It also played right into my usually impatient personality. There wasn't a lot of waiting or tipping, and you never had to worry about a waiter who was set on slow motion. You could also eat as fast as you wanted because, hey, you're on your feet, and that means you should keep moving.

I remember introducing "Wife" to this type of dining experience. We had been dating for a short time and being the romantic that I am, I was taking her to the circus. (Shut up! I love cotton candy, and if I get a chance to see tiny, Eastern European women doing acrobatics, I take it.) I told "Future Wife" that we would stop for something to eat. Since she was more white bread than anyone I knew and had never experienced a real "Italian beef sangwich" I was sure she'd love it. I wish I had the verbal skills to describe the look on her face when she walked into the joint. "Where do we sit?" When I told her we were about to eat standing up, her reaction lead me to believe I would have to start looking for a new future wife. Thank God the beef was top notch and her feet didn't hurt too much afterward.

"Daughter" took to stand up dining like a pro. Sometimes she really reminds me that she's my daughter. We share an affinity for fine dining that arrives in butcher's paper and the inevitable gas that follows. She kept looking up at me from the customized child size counter with such unbridled joy that I had to take her across the street for a neighborhood Italian Ice. Then we sat on a stoop, sang some doo-wop songs and lit a trash can on fire. Not really, but the Summer isn't over yet. Later...Brian