Mark also had a running battle with the homeless street people. They seemed to think our hot dog stand was a homeless shelter. Every morning it looked like there had been a big beer and wine party at ‘Big City Dogs’. There would be nasty old clothes and shopping carts full of crap. Mark would open up in the morning and within ten minutes there would be a guy taking a sponge bath in the washroom. But the worst of it was the smell of urine. We had to wash down the place every day with bleach.
One day while I was working at Memorial Regional Hospital, my phone rang. It was Mark, "I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE! I’M LEAVING AND GOING HOME! THEY SHIT ON THE TABLES!" (followed by the sound of gagging). And he hung up. By the time I got there he was gone. He had left our one employee alone to run the business. Mark has a very weak stomach, and can’t even stand to see the cat cough up a fur ball without gagging and puking. I went around to clean up the table, and there it was. One single turd. Not even a large turd. It was about the size of a medium dog turd and I washed it off with the hose in thirty seconds...........................This was not the hot dog stand I had envisioned.