Tag: hot dog carts

It must be Spring, Andy is back with his hot dog cart

“It’s officially Spring,” Ken Vampola said while sitting on a Main Street bench Friday afternoon.

He wasn’t talking about blooming plants or Robins chirping, the judge was referring to the first day Andy Manes was peddling hot dogs on the corner of Sixth and Main streets. Continue reading “22 Years on the Corner of 6th and Main”

We could all learn a lesson from the man they call “Cowboy”.  His kind words and reputation for helping those in need not only make the world a little better place, it’s great for business.  Be sure your customers think of you as a compassionate, helpful, and friendly person.  It goes a long way! – Steve

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

By Lori Gilbert
Record Staff Writer

Maria Garza-Gonzalez spent her late-morning break from her job with Human Services seeking out the man known as “Cowboy.”

“What’s going on around the corner at the apartment building?” she asked, referencing a building on Sutter Street between Washington and California.

“I don’t know,” came the reply.

“Yesterday there was caution tape around it. Today the tape says ‘crime scene,’ ” Gonzalez told him.

“It’s probably the only tape they had,” Cowboy reasoned.

He was right.

The block around the corner from where Gonzalez stood speaking to Cowboy on Washington Street was blocked off because a precarious piece of decorative molding was pulling away from the structure. Later in the afternoon, it was deliberately pried off, lest it fall and cause injury or damage.

“I just figured he’d know if anyone did,” Gonzalez said.

That’s kind of the way the folks who traverse Washington Street or walk in and out of the Human Services Agency building regard Cowboy.

The tall man in the black hat is a fixture on the street, arriving at 7:30 with his hot dog cart and sticking around until late in the afternoon or until all of his hot dogs, Polish sausages, hot links and cold drinks are gone.

On a typical day, the hot links and Polish sell out pretty quickly, as was the case Friday.

“You’re out of hot links?” a dissatisfied customer asked, a look of disbelief on his face.

He walked away, shaking his head in dismay at the state of Cowboy’s affairs.

More than likely, he’ll be back. They almost always return.

Even if they’re not in the market for lunch or a snack, they come by and say hello.

“He’s friendly, outgoing,” said Sheli DeFils, who’s been making trips to the Human Services Agency for a couple of years and always makes a point to say hello to Cowboy. “I see him helping out people who don’t have the money, or he’ll take money out of his tip jar to pay for them.”

That willingness to feed a homeless person or, on Friday, a drug user who had only $1, that bill having been given to her by another customer, is only part of what defines Cowboy.

A fixture for 10 years on Washington Street, he’s the unofficial mayor of the block. Cowboy, who goes by no name other than the one he’s been called since he began working his uncle’s ranch in Kewanee, Ill., at 9, and declines to offer one when asked – repeatedly – has a friendly word for all. He teases those who buy his food. He listens to their stories, happy and sad. He responds with a smile and a kind word to the calls of “Cowboy” that come in a steady stream from passers-by.

He even serves customers – regulars – who pull up to the curb of the one-way street in their cars to buy their dogs, giving new meaning to drive-through service.

The 60-year-old former truck driver, father of five grown daughters and husband of 16 years to Christine, an office secretary, mans his cart on foot. No sitting down for him.

“I feel like a yo-yo when I sit down. I’m up and down,” he said.

So he stands, ably assisted every day by his friend Steve Rogers.

Cowboy doesn’t pay Rogers for his help, but Rogers is more than happy to get up before dawn to help Cowboy pick up the cart where it’s locked for the night, pack it for the day and set it up on the sidewalk in front of the building at 333 E. Washington St.

“What else am I going to do at home?” asks Rogers, who first met Cowboy when he worked at nearby Seniors First, then came under Cowboy’s blanket of generosity when he got sick, lost his job and found himself homeless.

“He’d feed me hot dogs, and he took me out fishing,” Rogers said.

Now back on his feet, though on disability, and with a place to call home, Rogers helps serve dogs during the week and accompanies Cowboy on fishing ventures to Rio Vista, Antioch and other hot spots due west.

“That’s the only thing I do,” Cowboy said of his free time.

Rogers claims Cowboy isn’t much of a fisherman, his joy not determined by the bite. Sitting on the boat with friends who barbecue and passing away hours on the water are how he unwinds after standing on the pavement every day of the week.

Rain or shine, in most cases, Cowboy delivers, as reliable as the post office.

“You should see it when he’s not here,” Gonzalez said. “People freak out: ‘Where’s Cowboy?’ ”

If it’s raining too hard, he stays home, but usually the bad weather just causes him to move his cart under the awning on the San Joaquin Street side of the building.

The regulars know where to find him. They make the effort.

Besides his pleasant demeanor and obvious affection for the people he meets on the street, Cowboy has remained in business with an old-fashioned creed.

“Serve good hot dogs for a good price,” he said.

When launching his business 10 years ago, he bought five brands of hot dogs and let his customers try them for free. They chose the one they liked best, and that’s what Cowboy continues to deliver. He declines to name the brand. He also doesn’t reveal the number of customers he serves in a day. But he’s not complaining about the level of business he’s doing, even in these economic times.

His business, he said, has not suffered in the economic downturn.

“People still have to eat,” Cowboy said.

A sidewalk hot dog vendor is a unique fixture in Stockton. Cowboy’s presence not only provides a quick, inexpensive lunch, but it gives that block of Washington Street a big-city feel and brings the people of the area together.

Impatient clients and harried employees alike know that when their frustrations mount, they don’t have to go far to find someone who will give them a smile, offer them a friendly “hello,” sell them a hot dog or just make their day a bit nicer.

original article at Recordnet.com