Deli Delight?

All I wanted was a bagel dog. Not too much to ask, right? Yesterday, I didn't feel well enough to peel myself off the couch and venture out for the New York deli delight. Instead, I gagged down canned low sodium split pea soup. But today was a different story. I HAD to have that bagel dog. Alex left me car-less today, so I couldn't drive down to my favorite Noah's Bagel shop in Lake Oswego. Google to the rescue. I remembered there was a classic New York Jewish deli on NW 23rd. I used every ounce of energy I could muster, dusted off my bike, and pedaled the 1.5 miles. I was treating myself to a solo lunch out on the town, and was even a little excited about it. I picked up the Willamette Week, grabbed a single table, and perused the menu for 2.2 seconds before ordering a side salad with blue cheese, a bagel dog, and a water to drink (that one's for you, baby). A few minutes later the elderly waiter with an East Coast accent returned to inform me that they were, in fact, out of bagel dogs. OUT OF BAGEL DOGS?!? It wasn't even noon yet. How could you be out of bagel dogs? What kind of Jewish deli are you?!? He recommended a kosher dog on a bun, and I silently complied. Also, the elderly-accented waiter brought me a giant tub of pickles as a consolation. How'd he know I was pregnant!?!