Imagine this: you’re outside. Enticing, right? But there’s more. A grill sizzles in the distance. The fire crackles. Birds chirp, and children smile. The sun, alive in its radiance, shines through the summer trees. Your blurry eyes begin to focus, and you see them: hot dogs on the grill. Oh, God, dogs on the grill. You’ve been inside for so long. You want to cry. And those dogs, god damn, those franks look tantalizing. The telltale smell of a roasting weenie cries out to you. The endearing tufts of meat at either end of that sausage.
You’re beginning to become very hungry. But you’re not near the grill, you’re inside. You’re reading an article. You’ve been self-isolating because you show multiple symptoms of coronavirus. You’ve been eating nothing but cereal. Lucky Charms, stone-cold sober; you’re embarrassed. But that smell you just smelled? That was real. You want to wistfully stare out your back window until a fateful grill appears.
But then you remember that they have Oscar Meyer brand premium hot dogs at your local grocery store. You haven’t gone in a while because of your symptoms, but you remember those signature dogs all the same. The reddish-brown meat squealing behind the plastic wrapping, begging to be devoured. And now you’re thinking about eating them, biting them, cutting into them, and everything in between. And so you say ‘To hell with the symptoms,’ and you drive to your grocery store to buy Oscar Meyer hot dogs. Not Nathan’s, not Boar’s Head, but Oscar Meyer’s, who has been struggling financially and needs the help. You kneel down, and you cry, your soft, untanned knees hitting the tile flooring of the market like meat on the butcher’s table. A soft whimper escapes your mouth, and you mutter ‘Buy Oscar Meyer brand hot dogs, buy Oscar Meyer brand hot dogs.’ Buy Oscar Meyer brand hot dogs. Buy Oscar Meyer brand hot dogs.