Orioles Nut Waits in Vain for Staff to Replace His Withered Wiener

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The good people at Consumerist love three things: protecting the interests of the American consumer, baseball, and nitrate-filled meaty concessions wrapped in doughy buns. But when writer Alex Chasick drove up to Camden Yards on Sunday for the Orioles-Red Sox tilt, he was sold a less-than-stellar hot dog and decided to complain. First, the sad excuse for a wiener:


That is HORRENDOUS. So Alex did what any smart consumer would do and complained via text message:

Fortunately, a sign near our seats informed us that if we needed assistance, we could text "Orioles Issue Location" to a number and someone from the Orioles would respond. So we did.

The message they sent read, "Orioles really bad hot dog can I get a new one in sec 77 row G". The only response they got was a canned message eight minutes later saying their complaint was received, so they texted back, "Orioles no one ever brought me a replacement hot dog in sec 77."

Hm, I don't get it. Instead of returning to the concession stand and complaining about the withered wiener, the guy fires off a text message into the ether and expects a quick response. Correct me if I'm wrong (and I frequently am) but don't pro sports teams have those nifty text message thingies to report security problems, and not for shriveled sausages?

Technology is great; the next time I'm in Camden Yards for a Yankees-Orioles tilt, I'll have a grand old time getting my fellow Yankee fans ejected from the park for the crime of general jamookery. But if someone sells me a faulty frankfurter, I'm not going to sit around and wait for a replacement, I'll just throw the bad one at Melvin Mora.

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I like that he went the "we've tried nothing and we're all out of ideas!" route but insists he'll never buy another Oriole Dog again. Way to make your voting dollar count, consumer vigilante!

Texting about your wiener is never a good idea. -- Sean Salisbury

"Then they finally brought me a new hot dog and they put too many chopped onions on it and expected me to get my mustard from those annoying little packets you have to open with your teeth instead of using the big push-top barrel. I mean, can you believe this shit? Fuck Angelos."

I would buy a million Oriole Dogs if the club responded to that Consumerist blog post with, simply, "GO TO HELL, INTERNET NERD." Or something along that line.

Read the article more closely. It wasn't an "Oriole Nut." It was a typical, bandwagoning Boston fan who went "up to Baltimore", probably from Northern Virginia, to see "our Red Sox". Now the sense of entitlement makes a lot more sense, doesn't it?

I missed a very important angle. Thanks for shaming me!

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