A Critical Analysis of Why a Hot Dog is not a Sandwich

Kara McKenna

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In my 20 years of living, there are two questions that I ask myself every morning when I wake up to go to classes that aren’t worth $40,000 per year: 1). Why is “Careless Whisper” by George Michael not our National Anthem? and 2). Is a hotdog a sandwich?

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Alright, simmer down, Suzan. I guess I understand why total babe George Michael isn’t the voice of America. However, one thing I don’t understand is why you always have to go on a rant when someone dares to spell your name with an “s” instead of a “z,” making it Susan. Yeah, go ahead and blame it on the incompetence of Millennials. That’s what everyone else does.

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I’m actually a part of Gen Z, so nothing you say can offend me. I’m stuck with the generation of kids that think dabbing on the haters will promote world peace. We’re some real winners, Suzan.

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Anyway, it’s the tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme: was Belle really going to get jiggy with an animal? In a Disney movie?

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Whoops. That wasn’t in the list of prompts.

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For real though, is a hot dog a sandwich? This is the question that plagues inquisitive minds at night and leaves the Food and Drug Administration shook to the core. Actually, I think the FDA asks themselves if hot dogs are safe and edible for people to eat in the first place, but let’s not think about that too much.

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When I think of a sandwich, I think of two glorious pieces of quinoa flaxseed toast with only the purest baby avocado spread smothered between the slices.

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That was a joke. I eat a peanut butter sandwich every single day for lunch with whatever Aldi bread is the cheapest. Help me. Please.

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Getting back to the point, there is no way in h-e-double-hockey-sticks that a hot dog is a sandwich. I’m sure hot dogs aren’t trying to flex, but they’re in their own category of food.

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Why can’t we all accept that a hot dog is just a hot dog? Hot dog buns literally have their own space in the bread aisle because of their special little bun power. I didn’t mean for that to sound kinky, but we’re talking about hot dogs and little buns, after all.

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I swear Suzan, if you yell at me for using the word “literally” in a sentence, I will literally make it my mission to take down the Baby Boomers in the least non-threatening way possible…a hot dog eating contest.

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Actually, I just proved my point as to why a hot dog is not a sandwich. A hot dog eating contest isn’t called a “sandwich eating contest” now, is it? It’s called a “hot dog eating contest” because hot dogs are their own entity of food. They have feelings too, and they are feeling personally attacked that they even have to be in this conversation right now.

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        *Hot dogs have left the group chat*

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Since some truths are finally coming out, I have a confession to make…I’ve never eaten a hot dog in my life.

My mom tried to feed me a corndog when I was a kid, but I just ate the cornbread around it and said “Girl, bye!” to the hot diggity dog and sent her packing to the trash can.

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If you think that a hot dog is a sandwich, then you’re entitled to your wrong opinion. Feel free to keep hiding the truth from yourself. One day, you’ll look back at this argument and truly question why you let the government start this hot dog feud to distract us from the fact that we’re all living in some type of Matthew McConaughey car commercial.

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What does that even mean? I don’t know, but I feel like I trust Matthew McConaughey with my life more than I do with my own mother, and that seems problematic. I bet he would be able to give a great explanation for why a hot dog is not a sandwich.

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Whelp, I think this is it, chief. How did I do? Ok, you say? At least I didn’t type this in Comic Sans or something lame like that. Only a person who seriously considers a hot dog to be a sandwich would do that.