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“..No, I’m just saying. If you consider a sub a sandwich, then a hotdog is a sandwich too. It’s the same thing,” Alan explained to his peers with an intense expression. “You can’t say it’s not. Two pieces of bread connected at one end with ingredients in it.”
“Well, no, that’d just mean a hotdog is a sub,” Rich leaned back in his corner of the booth and looked out the window.
“Or it could mean a sub is a hotdog,” Henry replied.
“Ooh..” Alan nodded, resting his chin on his clasped hands. “Which came first, then?”
“A sub is just a kind of sandwich. Sandwiches existed first.” Roy dipped his fries into Rich’s ketchup while he wasn’t paying attention. “So a sub did. Technically.”
Leland rubbed his eye. “If they’re the same thing, what does it matter which came first?”
The table went quiet.
“But aren’t hotdogs like.. isn’t the sausage a vital thing for them?” Henry drummed his fingers on one of the plastic trays that held their food.
“Well, yeah, but who says you can’t just put sausage on a sub to make it a hotdog?” Alan asked, though everyone could barely understand him with his mouth full.
“Subs are bigger,” Roy said.
“What if you just make a really big hotdog? Does the size mean it’s a sub?” Rich turned back.
“I think it depends what you put on it,” Leland quipped, sipping his lemonade. “The size of the bread doesn’t matter. If you put turkey and cheese and stuff on a hotdog bun then it can be a sub.”
“Does that mean the ingredients define a sandwich?” Henry tilted his head.
“Well, if you put a sausage between two slices of bread, is that a hotdog?” Richard responded, and reached over for the artist’s chicken nuggets to which he was slapped on the hand.
“No, it’s a sandwich. It’s between two slices of bread. That’s a textbook sandwich,” Alan took another bite of his hotdog/sandwich.
“But it’d be a hotdog if you wrapped a slice of bread around a sausage,” Roy countered.
“That means a hotdog bun is one slice of bread.” Henry shook his head. “It’s not.”
“I mean..” Leland stared off in thought. “It’s not separated. So it is one slice of bread. No difference between folding a piece of bread in on itself and just having a hotdog bun.”
“Oh, shit..” Henry pursed his lips and fidgeted with the ring on his finger. “You’re right.”
“I know,” Leland replied.
“So a hotdog isn’t a sandwich because it’s only got one slice of bread.” Roy added.
Alan shook his head. “That’d mean a sub isn’t a sandwich.”
“Fuck,” Rich clicked his tongue. “No, the ingredient thing.”
Henry hummed in approval between bites.
“So a sub is a sandwich unless it has a sausage in it, ‘cause then it’s a hotdog.” Alan nodded. “I guess that makes sense. It’s not a hotdog if there’s not a dog.”
“Hotdogs aren’t even hot.” Leland laid his head on the table, and Henry pushed his food aside into Richard’s space.
“Fuck kind of hotdogs are you eating that are cold?” Roy narrowed his eyes in concern.
“Haven’t you ever eaten anything room-temperature?” Richard responded.
“Oh, yeah, I guess that’s fair.” Roy leaned over to take his ketchup again.
“Hey! You have your own!”
“No, Alan stole it.” He pointed to his boyfriend, who had three empty ketchup cups laid out before him.
“There’s something wrong with you people,” Henry chuckled.
“Hypocrite,” Rich replied with a snarky grin.
“Whaaatever.” The artist waved a hand dismissively. “I’m probably the normalest person here.”
“Most normal,” Leland corrected quietly.
“Most normal.”
“Yeah, most normal.” Roy snickered. “And no, that’s probably Alan.”
“Alan who drank three things of ketchup ten minutes ago? Are we thinking of the same guy?” Henry furrowed his eyebrows.
“God forbid a boy does anything nowadays!” Alan raised his hands in mock surrender.
“You could at least pick a better condiment.” Rich shrugged.
“Oh yeah? And what would you pick?” Alan replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I dunno, like.. soy sauce.”
“You’d drink soy sauce?” Roy crossed his arms. “I don’t know how I stand you people..”
“Soy sauce is good,” Leland muttered.
“You have POTS, dude. If you don’t eat sodium you pass out,” Alan protested. “Of course you’re gonna be biased.”
“You just don’t have taste,” Henry remarked. “Any sane person wouldn’t be drinking ketchup.”
“You literally have, like, half the DSM5 in your medical records.”
“At least I don’t prefer ketchup over soy sauce.” Henry picked up his mug and drank the last of his coffee.
“And you drink coffee at two in the afternoon!” Alan scoffed.
“God forbid,” he repeated.
“D’you guys wanna head to the park after this?” Roy nodded his head toward the door.
“I dunno,” Rich hummed. “Lee seems pretty tuckered out.”
“We can head home if he wants. I’m alright with whatever.” Roy responded.
“..Yeah.” Leland mumbled. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”
“Oh, didn’t that new one just come out? The uh.. the love story? What was it called?” Richard asked.
“Fuck if I know,” Leland replied. “I’m fine with anything. I just like spending time with you guys.”
“Well, lucky you, ‘cause we live together.” Alan smiled.
“Yeah, I know that.” Leland sniffled. “Everyone’s just been busy.”
“I mean, it’s about to be summer,” Roy said. “Two weeks, right?”
“Three. And guess who’s graduating college!” Alan chided in a singsongy voice.
“Yeah, how’re you guys feeling? Lee’s gonna be able to drink soon.” Henry remarked, rubbing Leland’s back.
“Better twenty-first birthday than you had,” Rich smirked, receiving laughter from the rest of the table in response.
“Alright, let's finish this food and head back before Leland passes out.” Roy reached to take the last of his fries, but Alan swiftly grabbed them and put them in his mouth before his boyfriend could react.
“My bad,” he looked around and continued chewing.
“Damn. You gonna take that?” Richard grinned.
Roy shoved the remaining hotdog bun into his mouth in retaliation.
Henry sighed in sarcastic irritation, watching as Alan took the last bite of a burger from Rich and the whole table became a mess, stealing each other’s food like starving animals.
As it turned out, life wasn’t so bad after all.