Place: Waffle House
Lunch: Bert’s chili, bacon, two eggs, toast, no grits
Technically, it's breakfast. But I won't eat again until Thanksgiving dinner, so I'm counting it.
Poor Misha isn't here to enjoy it. Misha (blog link to the right) says she loves Waffle House, but claims nobody ever wants to go with her when she's near one. She says we need to go sometime, and I've offered to take her, but she never seems to want to. It kind of reminds me of a girl I once knew who was always bugging me to ask her out so she could say no.
Meanwhile at the Waffle House, a server who reminds me of Flo from "Alice" is wondering aloud why water is flowing from the coffee machine to the floor. "Somebody tried to make coffee without a filter," she says. My server Suzy takes credit for the problem. Everybody thinks this is funny. Basically because it is. Even Suzy does. She is, by her own admission, very sleepy. Waffle House pays poorly, but the staff sure has fun.
I have a lovely drive ahead of me through the backwoods of Missouri to a Thanksgiving family reunion. This group doesn't get together often. It's been fifteen years since the last time.
Should be a hoot.
