So, at my core, I am a construction worker. As such often we eat whatever is available at the gas station, that is if you didn’t pack a lunch.
One hot August day in Wisconsin, a coworker and I were sent to troubleshoot and repair an irrigation system for a corn field. As it could be a long while until we had the situation sorted out, we stopped for food.
I was eating one of the “roller grilled hot dog shaped whatever they actually are” sausages from the highway stop gas station.
I got down to that one last bite, you know, the one where it’s either two small ones or one big bite. So… I look at what I am actually going to put in my mouth.
There it was, suture/stitching thread, the kind the veterinarian would use, embedded in my hot dog. My coworker of 27 years, still laughs when we talk about that day.
