Asheville, N.C. — A few weeks ago, I received a phone call from an acquaintance who asked if I would be willing to give her a ride to her job as a restaurant cashier in Asheville, North Carolina.
She was working in the city’s fast-casual chain, Hot Dog Express.
It was a busy day for me, so I picked her up.
In Asheville, she said, the weather was nice.
I was wearing a light gray coat with a hood.
“I’m a single mom with a baby on the way,” she told me.
She was nervous, but also hopeful.
I explained that I was working part-time at the local restaurant and wanted to get home before my daughter was born.
She agreed, and we headed to the airport.
Hot Dog Express has since shut down and moved to a new location in downtown Asheville.
The restaurant is a joint venture between Hot Dog, a local grocery chain, and Hot Dog International, a company that has locations in New York City, Miami, Atlanta, and Austin.
While I didn’t go with her to the new location, I was happy to see that she was willing to work part-timalayshop.
I had come here from Austin for a trip, and while it was nice to meet other travelers, it wasn’t as easy as I had expected.
During our first day, she told us that the food was a little stale and the service was a bit slow.
When I mentioned this to my friend, he suggested that we check out some local options.
“If you can, go to one of those small local restaurants,” he said.
I found a small, cozy place called Blue Frog, and after ordering a few dishes, we sat down for dinner.
The food was decent, but it was a tad bland.
The menu was sparse, and it didn’t seem like the same sort of restaurant that I had been to in Austin.
It had a big sign outside with the slogan “Fresh, Local, Great Food.”
I asked my friend if they had a full bar and he said no.
We started out with the appetizer: chicken legs with onions, tomatoes, lettuce, and pickled jalapenos.
They were great.
The chicken was juicy, the chicken was crispy, and the sauce was flavorful.
The tomato was sweet and creamy and the lettuce was crunchy.
After I ordered the appetizers, we went to the bar for dessert: peach iced coffee.
I wasn’t overly impressed with it.
I’m not big on sweet drinks, but I was pleasantly surprised that this one didn’t have a hint of sweetness.
At the end of our meal, I asked the waitress for the drinks we had requested.
She gave me a $2.50 tip, and I asked her if she could have the drinks for me.
I asked if the waitress could make a drink for me and she told that she could.
It was my first time ever tipping for drinks.
Afterwards, I headed home.
I couldn’t wait to see the city.
I wanted to see where it all began, and this would be the place.
A few days later, I woke up in a hotel room in a suburb of Asheville.
My friend, who works as a barista at a local coffee shop, was waiting for me when I got in.
What I saw was a place that had been shuttered for years.
A sign said that the restaurant had been closed for about two weeks and that they had moved it to a bigger location in the heart of town.
I knew that this would happen soon, but when I was at the airport last week, I didn://t think I’d see a thing for a while.
By the time I got to the hotel, the signs had been removed.
Instead, a sign was posted near the entrance to the building: Hot Dogs, Hot Pockets, ____ ____Hot Dogs.
When I went back to the restaurant, the place was open, but the tables had been taken away.
I walked in, but nobody was around.
The manager of the restaurant told me that the owner had closed the restaurant.
“They have just been running out of space,” she said.
How long can a restaurant stay open for?
I was not expecting to be greeted by a man wearing a dark suit.
I assumed that he was some sort of manager, and then I saw him standing next to the manager.
It was not long before he began telling me that he would not be giving me my tips.
Instead, he was giving me a portion of the food that was being served, and he asked if he could give me a free sandwich or two.
I told him I wanted nothing.
I didn’ t have any money, so what