You find yourself standing, inexplicably, in front of a hot dog stand. You feel as if
you have amnesia, no idea how you got here. You’re starting to think you might
be suffering from the early stages of Alzheimers, which kinda scares you.
“I wanna be a part of it, New York New York..." Old Blue Eyes drones on, the
music coming from a cracked plastic boombox perched on the hot dog cart.
"Hey buddy, ya gonna buy a hot dog here or what? Don't just stand there staring, you're
creepin' me out!" the vendor says.
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