It doesn’t happen too often, but I do occasionally meet somebody who doubts my claim to be the real Sausage King of Chicago. When this happens I usually just chuckle and say “Would you like to see my credentials?”
Then I whip it out.
In addition to my regular cards I carry an original business card that once belonged to my great grandfather, Einhorn Finkhof Froman. The card dates to 1897, Sausage fans, and depicts our family’s original Chicago Sausage Works. Einhorn was the original Sausage King, followed by my grandfather, then my father, who passed the title on to me. That’s how it works – ask any King – you can’t just buy your way into a title like that, you can’t just earn it through hard work – it’s all about history and inbreeding and genes and blood. I have the Sausage King genes running through my veins and that’s all there is to it.
Most folks just stare at me in awe once I’ve filled them in on these facts. “Don’t worry,” I say to them. “If you want to make it up to me, forget about humble pie, just eat my sausage!”
And, do you know what? They usually do.