Corn Dogs: Based on a True Story

The mouth-watering aroma of deep fry mingled with the pollen and fragrance of blooming Georgia wildflowers. The sunshine reflected off a young man’s gas station sunglasses as he breathed in the fresh air and listened to the rabble of festival goers around him. Travis walked alongside his family and high school sweetheart past the food stands and carnival games, but he noticed that one particular stand was gathering substantially more attention than the rest. 

“What’s going on up there?” His mom asked, gesturing to the food stand. 

“Oh my God, do you smell that?!” His girlfriend, Beth-Anne, asked with the brightest, most exuberant eyes. 

“Are those…” His dad started to ask, but immediately answered his own question, “They are!”

“Corn dogs!” His parents and girlfriend exclaimed in unison, but Travis didn’t share the same excitement as them. Instead, his attention quickly drifted off and he had to hide his feelings behind the tinted lenses of his sunglasses. Beth-Anne tugged at his hand, dragging him behind her while the three of them sprinted off to get in line at what smells like the nation’s greatest corn dog stand.

“Are, uh, are you guys sure we have time to stand in such a long line? The music should be starting soon and the lawn is getting pretty full.” He gestured to the nearly empty green grass field that stretched out from a stage where that afternoon’s entertainment hadn’t even started sound checks yet. 

“Trav, honey, we have plenty of time!” His mom said, but he just groaned and started to pout. Beth-Anne eyes his parents curiously, and they each return with a knowing chuckle.

“Don’t mind him, Beth,” his dad said, “Travis just gets a little sensitive around corn dogs.” 

Beth-Anne started to laugh but immediately stifled it when she saw him clam up, “What… What does that even mean? Do you not like them? Did you get sick once or something?” 

His parents both started cracking up, but Travis rolled his eyes and simply said, “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s stupid.” 

“Oh, come on Travis! It sounds like a funny story!” 

“Don’t worry about it, okay?! You guys eat your stupid corn dogs, I’m not even that hungry...”

Beth-Anne reluctantly let it go, but couldn’t help remaining curious while they progressed through the line. When they got to the counter, his mom ordered three corn dogs and just a lemonade for Travis, which his face scrunched up at when he took a sip. 

The four of them made their way to the lawn and unfurled a blanket to stretch out on, but Travis noticed that while his parents had already started devouring the crunchy, dough covered pork-sicles, Beth-Anne hadn’t yet started on hers. 

“Why aren’t you eating? It’s gonna get cold.” 

“It’s just… I feel kind of weird now. I don’t want to eat it knowing that you have this enigmatic history with corn dogs. I feel like I’m supporting some kind of cycle of abuse between you and these delicious spring time treats.” 

Travis’s parents failed to suppress their laughter at Beth-Anne’s quasi-serious comment. Travis, on the other hand, blushed and said, “Really, it’s okay! Just eat it, my lemonade is…. Sooo good.” His voice faltered when he said that and Beth-Anne squinted at him.

“Let me try,” she took a sip and equally scrunched her face, “it’s too sour! You hate sour things! And I know you’re not a vegetarian, because we had pork chops at my house the other day. So, what is it?!” 

“You want to know? You really want to know?!”

“Yes!” 

“Fine… It’s just…” He shuddered. Beth-Anne is terrified of the possibilities. Did he see someone choke to death on a corn dog? Was he ashamed of a cornmeal allergy? Did he have a weird corn dog related experience with a previous girlfriend? What could it possibly be? “I’m cursed.” 

“You’re... cursed? Like, by a witch?” 

“See! That’s why I didn’t want to say anything! It sounds so stupid!”

“No! It’s just funny is all.  What kind of curse is it? A hex? A jinx? Or is it like an evil eye thing?” 

Travis brooded for a minute before answering, “All I know is that it’s physically impossible for me to eat a fully-cooked corn dog.” 

A big, beautiful grin spread across her face and she looked to his parents, who both nodded in unironic agreement, “You’re serious? You’ve never had a fully cooked corn dog? Like, is the meat always undercooked or something?” 

“No, the meat is usually fine. It’s just the batter is always mushy and disgusting. Like, it looks crispy and fried on the outside, but then, on the inside… Every. Single. Time. It’s pure batter when I bite in. I don’t know if you’ve ever bitten into unfried corn dog batter, but it instantly renders the rest of the dog inedible.”

Beth-Anne took a few minutes to process this, she’d never heard Travis claim anything supernatural or fantastical before, much less something that his parents personally verified. “Now… When you say never…”

“I mean it. It started in the elementary school cafeteria, where they burn the life out of anything they serve, and yet, undercooked. Every time. Then at restaurants, we surfed from kids’ menu to kids’ menu searching for just a single corn dog with a crunchy coat of dough, nothing. Carnivals, festivals, movie theatres. Everywhere we went, we would try corn dog after corn dog only to find uncooked batter wrapped in a deceptively browned exterior.”

“And it’s only him,” his mom chimed in, “his father and I would order the same thing and ours would be fine. Only his would turn out to be undercooked.” 

“We even tried the frozen kinds from the grocery store,” his dad continued, “without fail, the ones he bit into would be wet on the inside, whether we microwaved or baked them.” 

Beth-Anne sat back with an amused countenance, but she could tell Travis was sick and tired of hearing and telling this story over and over, “That… is wild.” Travis rolled his eyes again. “However… you might be in luck.”

Travis looked at her curiously, “I might?”

“Yep. I happen to be an expert curse breaker.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, “Is that so? How many curses have you broken?” 

“That’s not important, what’s important is I’ve never failed... so… what do you say? Can I try breaking this curse?” 

He gave her a critical glance, but over her shoulder, he could see his parents smiling and giving thumbs up, “Alriiiight, I’ll give it a shot. Just this once, though.” 

“Yes!” She pumped her fist in the air and her tone shifted to a more serious one, “Let’s start with the classic scientific method. I’ll bite into mine and if it turns out to be fully cooked, I’ll give it to you so you can finish it.”

Travis sighed and looked down in disappointment, “We’ve tried that before.” 

His mom said, “We tried cooking them at home once, and when I bit into mine, it was perfectly cooked, but then I had Trav take a bite, and… the middle was mushy and undercooked.”

“Hm…” Beth-Anne thought about it some more, “then maybe it’s a curse on your family. I mean think about it. It’s always been you or members of your family who acquire the corn dogs, right? What if I buy it for you? Maybe my outside influence will banish the curse?” 

“She brings up a good point, Trav,” his mom said. 

“I don’t know… raw batter is pretty nasty. I really don’t want to ruin a perfectly good afternoon with yet another failed corn dog experiment.” 

“But think of the possibilities if we succeed! Spongy, perfectly cooked batter is fantastic! Wouldn't it be worth the risk?” Beth-Anne argued with him, “Just think, what if in just one day, you could fix a problem that’s been plaguing you for years, your entire life even!” 

Travis looked into her eyes, and when she squeezed her fingers around his hand excitedly, he smiled, “Okay. I’ll give it a chance. But! Just one chance, then I’m done. Forever.” 

She squealed in excitement and in one swift motion, dragged him off the blanket and ran back to the corn dog stand, her sundress flowing in the springtime breeze. The line seemed to move at a snail’s pace, but Travis knew that was only because of the nervous gurgling in his hungry stomach. If this did end up doing the trick, he might not have to write off this one, amazing food for the rest of his life. Gradually, the line got closer and closer to the counter until the sweaty cashier looked at them with marked indifference and grunted. 

Beth-Anne stepped up to the plate and said, “One corn dog, please.” When the order was up, he reached for the meaty, bready treat, but then Beth-Anne quickly swatted his hand away. “No! If you take it now, the curse won’t be lifted. You’ll get it back at the blanket.” He recoiled, but snickered at her seriousness. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She took the corn dog in hand and Travis couldn’t help but revel in the deep fried goodness emanating from it as they navigated back to his parents’ spot on the lawn. When they sat back down, Beth-Anne made a big, ceremonial display in passing off the corn dog to her boyfriend, “Travis, with this corn dog, I hereby vanquish the curse that has befallen you.” 

“I graciously accept thine humble gift, m’lady.” He took the corn dog in two hands and sighed deeply, he was much more nervous than he felt he should have been for such a silly thing that he had been so embarrassed by just a few minutes earlier. 

His eyes closed the moment he dug his teeth into the coat of deep fry in his hands. Historically, the first thing he notices is the temperature of the cold batter sneaking through the hot exterior. Next, the mouth feel turns into an atrocious eggy, corn-mealy, snotty mixture, but this time… no. Nothing but hot, crispy, crunchy, slightly sweet sponge lightly seasoned with cayenne and jalapeno peppers. Instead of a simple mass-produced hot dog, he bit off a chunk of homemade, pork and beef sausage that tingled his senses. Each moment of savory chewing brought him back to various other moments in his life which had been tainted by traumatic disgust. 

When he finally opened his eyes, the birds chirped a little louder, the flowers smelled a little more effervescent, and the sun shined a little brighter. Beth-Anne’s smile showed just how proud of herself she was, and his parents’ dumbstruck expressions reflected the magnitude of her accomplishment. Travis swallowed the bite and sat wordlessly for a minute or two before pulling Beth-Anne in for a hug and kiss on the cheek. 

“You did it. You… you broke the curse.” 

Beth-Anne playfully curtsies, “T’was my pleasure, m’lord.” 

Travis had been so engrossed in his corn dog that he barely noticed the music starting. The four of them lied back to enjoy the show, then when his parents started telling Beth-Anne stories of their past corn dog adventures, Travis was finally able to rejoice and share in the laughter at his difficult hardships.