Throckmorton,
but fifty cents off a hot dog just isn’t cutting it.”
I leaned against the counter
and crossed my arms. “What else do we have to offer them?”
Silence fell as the four of us
tried to think of something. What would make people want to come
into Diggity Dog House during the holiday season? Hot coffee and
hot chocolate? Everyone else was doing that though, so why should
they come here instead? Candy canes were cheap, but again, everyone
would be doing that.
We needed something unique to
Diggity Dog House. Something they couldn’t get anywhere else.
“A dancing hot dog!” Zac
exclaimed, his brown eyes wide.
We all looked at him like he’d
lost his mind. Zac’s brain went about a million times faster than
anyone else’s I knew and it was usually hard to keep up. He’d flit
from one idea to another with no warning.
“Yes, I’m a giant hot dog,” I
said, gesturing to the costume crushed around my waist. “Three days
a week, right here. What’s new about that?”
Zac shook his head. “No, I
mean, everyone loves Bob, right? And everyone wants to see Bob do
the Diggity Dog Shuffle. So what if every time someone donates a
can, you do the shuffle?”
He began pacing back and forth
across the diner floor, his arms waving wildly as he talked.
“It could be like a
dance-a-thon. Hot Dog Holiday Wonderland Hop! We could advertise
that we’re on a mission to keep Bob dancing all day long. As long
as the cans keep coming in, Bob will keep doing the shuffle. It’s
fun and silly and people will have to take notice. It’s a giant
dancing hot dog dressed as Santa, they’ll have no choice but to
watch. Kids love Bob. They’ll probably beg their parents to donate
cans just to see you dance.”
He turned to us, his eyes
shining as he grinned. “What do you think?”
Before I could say anything, a
voice behind me said, “It’s brilliant!”
Mr. Throckmorton walked out
from behind the counter. His hair stuck up on one side of his head
and he had visible crescents of sweat around the underarms of his
shirt, despite the fact that the heater was set to low inside the
restaurant to save money. Mr. Throckmorton was the definition of
stressed out.
He clapped Zac on the shoulder,
his face shining. “You, sir, are a genius.” Mr. Throckmorton
pointed at Zac and looked to the rest of us for agreement. “Isn’t
he a genius? His idea is going to save our canned food drive and
bring in some business. Genius!”
“Lights!” Zac said. He bent
over his notebook, scribbling this at the bottom of the already
long list. “All kinds of colors. Maybe a disco ball too. For the
‘dance’ kind of feel, you know? Oh, a stage! Bob has to dance on a
stage so everyone can see him.”
I raised my eyebrows as Zac
added these newest ideas to his notebook. “Are you sure you’re not
going overboard just a bit?” I asked.
Zac gave me an exasperated
look. “It’s a dance-a-thon, Avery. Featuring a giant Hot Dog Santa.
I think this thing went overboard long ago.”
I was trying to be the
supportive girlfriend, I really was. I loved that Zac had crazy
ideas and could be so passionate about things. It was what made him
completely different from me and what drew me to him.
But there was still a little
part of me that was ticked off that I didn’t think of this idea
first. The canned food drive had been my thing. And it had taken a
lot of convincing just to get Mr. Throckmorton to agree to it in
the first place. Now Zac had this crazy idea and Mr. Throckmorton
was all over it with no hesitation at all. Since when did Zac care
about canned food drives?
And even though I loved Zac, I
had to admit that sometimes he let things get out of hand. Over
summer vacation he decided to run a dog walking business to earn
some extra money. Was he satisfied with just walking four or five
dogs? No. Ten? Nope.
He somehow
found thirty-two dogs to walk. And then he tried to walk them all at the same
time, while cleaning up poop