Smoking Lady

Would you let this lady touch your food? Well, I'm ashamed to admit it but I did. Last week I attended a local bay area chain of Hot dog eateries (the one that starts with a K- not a C-). As I'm approaching the front door of the "fine eating establishment" there's an older wrinkled woman smoking and with her rough whiskey voice rumbles, "I'll be there in a minute". As I'm slightly grossed out by the sad sound of her it dawns on me that she will soon be handling my hot dog (no pun intended). By this moment I'm feeling slightly nauseated as I peer at the menu. Soon after smoking-lady enters the room and walks behind the counter and in her best whiskey voice mumbles, "what can I get for you hun?". I stood there like a deer in the headlights pondering should I run, should I order, Is she going to wash her hands? I decide that If 1. she washes her hands I'll stay, 2. if she doesn't I'll run. Well I keep pausing and finally she heads to the sink and starts washing her hands with soap and water. So, I decide to order the usual cheese dog but I get it to go. During the ride home I ponder whether I will eat it or not and since I'm weak, I end up eating it. But it was the worst hot dog I've ever eaten. During the whole experience I'm envisioning this woman smoking and wispering in her whiskey voice. After this experience I am officially a changed man.