By NeilT
I’m in sausage sales, selling bratwurst, liver sausage, Slovenian, kielbasa, kolbasch, mettwurst, even Serbian from a cart on Miller Park Way, right outside of Miller Park. There isn’t much business in the winter, though when spring comes and through the fall I’m always busy. I have a pretty good clientele, pretty loyal, and I make a great sausage, but there is this one guy who’s kind of odd. He looks like I always imagined Uriah Heep would look, sort of bony and clammy looking. Bud. I remember when he started showing up, back in 1992, he’d come to the stand and buy a sausage, and then he’d say this weird thing: he’d say “I’m going to slip this sausage to . . .” For instance, in 1994, he’d buy, say, a kolbasch and say “I’m going to slip this kolbasch to the players union.” Every day he’d buy a sausage and say that thing about the player’s union. One year I remember it was Montreal. One year it was the separate leagues. Creeped me out.
Then maybe the last seven years it was always the same, “I’m going to slip this sausage to Houston.” I don’t know who this Houston guy is, but Bud’s been slipping you some mighty fine sausage. Like I say, I make good sausage, and while Bud is peculiar, he apparently knows how to slide a friend the old kielbasa. Thank him when you see him.
Tonight I didn’t watch the game. We went and had sushi at Kata Robata, which was very good. I know that one dish had freeze dried mullet. I’m sure if I bothered looking at the box score, I’d have some pithy things to say, but we’re 8 games into a losing streak, and pith is beside the point. As Scarlett said, tomorrow is another day.