Ministry of Culture: On the Human Condition and Maggie's Hot Dogs

Dear friends, welcome to the victory lap article to the Beijinger’s hallowed hamburger issue, in which the contestants for Best Hamburger in Beijing are celebrated. The Best Hamburger, incidentally, is available now at the city’s Best Restaurant period: the Burger King at the Beijing South Train Station. But you’ve read this far, so keep going.

Friends, whenever I myself ponder pulverized fatty meat and chuck, one name instantly leaps to mind: Maggie’s. Specifically, the hot dog available at nightlife hot spot Maggie’s. Talk about a lip-smacking celebration of ground beef, fingernails, and hammered horse assholes, but have you ever tried a Maggie’s hot dog? It is often cited as the best in Beijing!

In order to find out, I spent an entire night at the Maggie’s hot dog counter. For your edification, herein are sights and sounds of that evening.

10pm
Already wondering how many double entendres I can dry hump into this article.

10.02pm
First dog of the night is mine. The gentleman serving is a portly fellow with the countenance of a Northern pedigree. He slides the hot dog bun in the microwave and I inquire, “Excuse me, sir, of what make would you classify these here delicious hot dogs? German-style sausages? Polish? Or maybe even American?”

“Yes.”

10.35pm
The hot dog stand is outside the club proper in the moonlight, in a small courtyard at the venue’s entrance. As such, it affords one viewing of the clientele entering and egressing from the establishment. As far as I can surmise, Maggie’s is hosting some kind of Janet Jackson circa 1984 look-a-like fashion competition. The female contestants are just streaming in.

10.42pm
Golly, there are a lot of women coming into the place. Do they have some sort of special for ladies, I wonder?

10.45pm
The hot dog counter gets its first other customer of the night. The gentleman looks like a disgraced Scout master from Minnesota on laundry day. He wordlessly devours his hot dog and licks his fingers. Is it too late to go back to university, I wonder?

11.39pm
Two gentleman approach the hot dog bar with suit jackets tied around their waists – way to pull off that tricky transition from business to pleasure, guys, really.

12am
The hot dog cook is from Harbin. He says he doesn’t like Beijing because it’s too big and too busy. But he’s making money here so he’ll stay. I ask him, “Hey, what do you think of all these porno iguana people just hanging out all over the place?” He looks at me and slinks away. I might be getting a bit tipsy.

12.05am
Holy shit, I know this guy! Aaaaand, now he’s talking to me. This middle-aged guy is dressed like Lock, Stock and Two Tedious Barrels and telling me “he remembers Beijing when there were only six bars in the city” like he’s some kind of friggin’ Magellan. Dude, Magellan circumnavigated the earth. You discovered cheaper drink prices in Beijing in 1996.

1am on the dot 
Steven Schwankert comes in and pretends like he doesn’t see me. I see you, buddy! Are you here to judge the Janet Jackson 1984 look-a-like competition? I know how you like to judge.

1.47am
Oh my god, this is the greatest band I’ve ever seen. Must drink.

2.37am
Aren’t we all just ... living on a prayer? Maybe that’s the take-away here.

3.30am
Wait, what am I supposed to be doing here again? Ruminate on the cosmic ineffable? What THE FRIG are YOU looking at, buddy?

4am
The hot dogs at the police station, ehhh ... not so good. C+.

Read more from Morgan's explorations of Beijing's dark underbelly here or read about the true winner of 2016's Burger Cup here.

Photo: beautytour.info