Page 67 of Hot Doggin'
MCCORMICK
“I can’t believethis shit is only a dollar fifty. It’s so good,” I moan around a mouthful of hot dog.
“It has to be the longest hotdog I’ve ever eaten.” Stiles swallows the rest of his bite before speaking again. “You think they got those samples today?”
“We’re gonna find out.” I grab a cart, and we head down the first aisle. Costco is ginormous, and I plan to hit every single square foot of this place. “I never knew dating could be fun until you.”
“One hundred percent. I never knew you could make a date out of this, but I guess you can.”
Shit. Has he not met me? “We can make a date out of anything. Who says it has to be at a stuffy restaurant or a boring movie? As long as we’re together and having fun, it’s a date. In fact, I’ll treat you to a seven course meal. This hot dog and my six pack,” I tease, rubbing a hand down my abs.
Stiles shakes his head and laughs. “You’re a mess. We should look for stuff for the new house.”
“Recliners?” My brows shoot way up.
“Don’t start with that Bert and Ernie shit again.”
We pass bins of socks, underwear, and T-shirts, and I grab three packs of socks and toss them into the cart. “Speaking of house hunting, I think you need these. Aren’t you short on socks?”
”Fucker. Don’t laugh at me. What was I supposed to wipe with?”
Two aisles over, we round the corner and I stop dead in my tracks. There's a freezer case up ahead that towers over everything else, and I swear to God, there’s a golden light shining around it, like it’s a holy offering. Are those angels that I hear singing?
Stiles catches up with me, almost bumping into me with the cart. “No! Absolutely fucking not.”
“But… But…”
“Come the fuck on, Mac! What are we supposed to do with an entire case of hotdogs? There’s…” He squints to read the sign. “Thirty packages in each case. Where are we supposed to put them all?”
A lightbulb goes off in my head. “I think they sell refrigerators here. Let me check.”
“You wanna buy an extra refrigerator to keep all your hotdogs in? That’s insane!”
“No, that’s being prepared. We could keep the extra freezer in the garage.”
Stiles shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows he’s lost and I’ve won. There’s no use in arguing with my superior logic. I load up two cases, because why the fuck not? We’re buying an extra fridge.
“We’re gonna have to check out the ketchup and mustard section to see if they have industrial sizes. You think they have that wasabi mustard here?”
“Fuck my life,” Stiles mutters.
We toss more stuff into the cart as we search out the refrigerators. A huge can of salted nuts, packages of paper plates and plastic utensils so we don’t have to clean up after ourselves and do dishes, a shit-ton of toilet paper to last until the apocalypse and a fluffy cat bed.
“But we don’t have a cat,” Stiles insists.
“Dude, for when Nash brings Valor over.”
“Oh yeah. Put it in the cart.” I can’t say no to the inflatable unicorn raft either. “Is that really necessary? We don’t have a pool, Mac.”
“But we’re gay now. He’s like our mascot. We’ll put him out on the deck.” My ass he’s going outside on the deck. He might blow away! He’s going in our living room. “Come on Ezra. Get in the cart.”
Stiles frowns. “Ezra?”
“He looks like an Ezra don’t he?”
“No. You’re not giving him a name that ends with A.”
Figures he’d say that. “Fine. We'll call him Josh.”
