The Real Yellow Mustard

I am hanging in tonight cleaning and catching up on mindless television. Right now I am watching re-runs of The Girls Next Door about Hugh Hefner's Playboy playmates. They were walking around NYC trying to get hot dogs from the street vendors, however they had to be with the "real yellow" mustard. They went to quite a few stands before finding the correct kind of mustard. I have to say that I also do this frustrating search every time I am hungry for a hot dog. It doesn't always have to be in the city, but whenever I want a hot dog, I want real yellow mustard on it - not Dijon, not spicy, just regular French's mustard!

Not only am I picky about the kind of mustard I like, I am picky about my men too. I am like Brigitte on The Girls Next Door in the fact that I will keep going to the next hot dog stand until I find the right one! I am not afraid to say no, refuse one that has already been around, and will gladly accept anyone that seems to be the right kind. Until I find that hot dog with the real yellow mustard, I don't mind sampling a few that are pretending to be the right kind.