Sunday, April 20, 2008
Politics - scattered, smothered, covered and chunked
Enough of the gloom and doom, dear readers. The sun is out and I've let some light in. I just may be back to my usual self. In fact, I'm darn near perky, if you can believe that.
My appetite seems to have returned in spades. To satisfy it, I paid a visit this morning to one of my favorite breakfast spots in town. It'd been a few months since my last visit due to the initiation of a new diet - one for health, more than for losing weight. I, therefore, had banned myself from...
Waffle House
Yeah. Crazy of me, I know. Who in their right mind would do a thing like that? Well, it's fairly evident that I have not been in my right mind of late...
There are two of these establishments in my fair city. One is Waffle House Hell and the other is, well, not. In three visits to the first one, I've walked out twice after waiting too, too long to get served. In addition to that, it's lack of upkeep would discourage even an in-discriminate cock-roach.
The second, well, I've had only one bad experience with a waitress who had an irrepressible need to give more attention to stocking the silverware than taking my order. Other than that sour encounter, it's rep with me is one of a clean, well-managed establishment. And friendly.
This morning was no different. I was greeted like an old friend when I entered and my waiter proposed marriage after I sat down.
"No, really. You think I'm kidding. You say yes, I"ll leave right now," he implored. I laughed and gave him my order - coffe, OJ, cheesey scrambled, hash-browns, wheat toast and bacon. Crisp.
On my left were a largish man and woman who had just finished what looked like a couple of heaping plates of biscuits 'n gravy and whatever else the kitchen had to offer. They were jovial and chatty with the staff. While I waited for my order, I dove into my Google-Reader subs on my handy iPhone to catch up on my internet neighbors.
Just before my order came, the largish man ordered a steak. The waiter thought he was kidding. "Nope, I'm serious. Cook me up one of those steaks."
One-of-those-steaks was a two handed Waffle House T-bone. Did I mention he was a largish man?
A couple on my right had finished up and, when the waiter brought the check, mentioned they were going fishing.
"I'm going with you," the waiter announced. He turned to the rest of the staff, "Hey, I'm leaving. I'm goin' fishin' with these guys."
There was a general laugh and the largish man said, "What? Ya' not happy here? How long you been workin' here?"
"Four years, but it's about to be none."
The largish man asked him what was going on.
"Well, ya' see, I'm a cook. I kin cook uppa thousand dollars inna night an' this croppa new cooks cain't even manage a coupla hunert dollars worth without screwin' up an order."
He was clearly frustrated.
My breakfast was delivered, whereupon the largish man expressed his desire to possess my bacon. Crisp.
"Kin I have yer bacon? It looks mighty good." He smiled. I thought to myself that this poor man's wife was probably going to find her husband keeled over from a heart attack someday soon.
"Maybe, we'll see how far I get," I answered, but my bacon was going to stay put. I didn't want to contribute to his impending coronary distress.
I gave my attention to my breakfast and my reading and let the rest of the Waffle House world swirl outside my bubble for a bit.
I tuned back in as I was finishing up. The general topic had shifted to politics.
"I'll vote fer her, before ah'd vote fer that Obama," the waiter stated as he cleared the dishes from in front of the largish couple.
"I cain't stand her," largish man protested. "She's a liar and cain't be trusted. I cain't vote fer him either."
"I'm not a democrat, but ah'd vote fer her before him. I couldn't vote fer him ever." Clearly my potential intended was further right than I. And maybe just a bit of a bigot. But, as I learned in the next moment, perhaps not as much of a bigot as my largish neighbor.
"Well, that Obama is full of anti-Amurikin sentiment. He's got no substance. But, he's got the blacks nailed."
It was at that point that I noticed a new couple on my right. A young black man and his girlfriend. I gave them an "He's an idiot" look. They sat quietly waiting to give their breakfast order.
Attempting unsuccessfully to lower his voice, largish man turned to his spouse and scoffed "When you mention blacks it's s'posed to be high praise only..."
I pulled two dollars out of my pocket for the tip and tucked them under the side of my plate. I gave another look to the young couple on my right. I then looked at the largish man.
"Bacon?" He gleefully took my half eaten plate of bacon - crisp - from my hands.
I paid my bill and departed.
My appetite seems to have returned in spades. To satisfy it, I paid a visit this morning to one of my favorite breakfast spots in town. It'd been a few months since my last visit due to the initiation of a new diet - one for health, more than for losing weight. I, therefore, had banned myself from...
Waffle House
Yeah. Crazy of me, I know. Who in their right mind would do a thing like that? Well, it's fairly evident that I have not been in my right mind of late...
There are two of these establishments in my fair city. One is Waffle House Hell and the other is, well, not. In three visits to the first one, I've walked out twice after waiting too, too long to get served. In addition to that, it's lack of upkeep would discourage even an in-discriminate cock-roach.
The second, well, I've had only one bad experience with a waitress who had an irrepressible need to give more attention to stocking the silverware than taking my order. Other than that sour encounter, it's rep with me is one of a clean, well-managed establishment. And friendly.
This morning was no different. I was greeted like an old friend when I entered and my waiter proposed marriage after I sat down.
"No, really. You think I'm kidding. You say yes, I"ll leave right now," he implored. I laughed and gave him my order - coffe, OJ, cheesey scrambled, hash-browns, wheat toast and bacon. Crisp.
On my left were a largish man and woman who had just finished what looked like a couple of heaping plates of biscuits 'n gravy and whatever else the kitchen had to offer. They were jovial and chatty with the staff. While I waited for my order, I dove into my Google-Reader subs on my handy iPhone to catch up on my internet neighbors.
Just before my order came, the largish man ordered a steak. The waiter thought he was kidding. "Nope, I'm serious. Cook me up one of those steaks."
One-of-those-steaks was a two handed Waffle House T-bone. Did I mention he was a largish man?
A couple on my right had finished up and, when the waiter brought the check, mentioned they were going fishing.
"I'm going with you," the waiter announced. He turned to the rest of the staff, "Hey, I'm leaving. I'm goin' fishin' with these guys."
There was a general laugh and the largish man said, "What? Ya' not happy here? How long you been workin' here?"
"Four years, but it's about to be none."
The largish man asked him what was going on.
"Well, ya' see, I'm a cook. I kin cook uppa thousand dollars inna night an' this croppa new cooks cain't even manage a coupla hunert dollars worth without screwin' up an order."
He was clearly frustrated.
My breakfast was delivered, whereupon the largish man expressed his desire to possess my bacon. Crisp.
"Kin I have yer bacon? It looks mighty good." He smiled. I thought to myself that this poor man's wife was probably going to find her husband keeled over from a heart attack someday soon.
"Maybe, we'll see how far I get," I answered, but my bacon was going to stay put. I didn't want to contribute to his impending coronary distress.
I gave my attention to my breakfast and my reading and let the rest of the Waffle House world swirl outside my bubble for a bit.
I tuned back in as I was finishing up. The general topic had shifted to politics.
"I'll vote fer her, before ah'd vote fer that Obama," the waiter stated as he cleared the dishes from in front of the largish couple.
"I cain't stand her," largish man protested. "She's a liar and cain't be trusted. I cain't vote fer him either."
"I'm not a democrat, but ah'd vote fer her before him. I couldn't vote fer him ever." Clearly my potential intended was further right than I. And maybe just a bit of a bigot. But, as I learned in the next moment, perhaps not as much of a bigot as my largish neighbor.
"Well, that Obama is full of anti-Amurikin sentiment. He's got no substance. But, he's got the blacks nailed."
It was at that point that I noticed a new couple on my right. A young black man and his girlfriend. I gave them an "He's an idiot" look. They sat quietly waiting to give their breakfast order.
Attempting unsuccessfully to lower his voice, largish man turned to his spouse and scoffed "When you mention blacks it's s'posed to be high praise only..."
I pulled two dollars out of my pocket for the tip and tucked them under the side of my plate. I gave another look to the young couple on my right. I then looked at the largish man.
"Bacon?" He gleefully took my half eaten plate of bacon - crisp - from my hands.
I paid my bill and departed.
Labels: Politics, Restaraunts, Waffle House
Posted at 11:42 AM | |
