Monday, April 6, 2009

The Awful Waffle*

I had a textbook experience last night - a friend of mine and I went to have "Breakfast for Dinner" at the local Waffle House.



We were greeted by a wall-eyed waitress who had to have been smoking something good. She invited us to take a seat anywhere. We were the only customers at the moment so we had our pick of seating. Off to a nice start.

Then I notice the toddler playing in on of the other booths: a different waitress was hovering nearby so I assumed it was a mother and child with childcare issues.

We were greeted again by our section waitress, this one looked to be under the age of 30 but had no teeth. Instantly making her age a good 20 years. She was friendly enough and took our order with no problems. While we waited for our food, the next shift started coming in the restaurant.

First, a rather unkept man came in, shortly followed by a visably pregnant girl in sweatpants and no shoes. She wandered up to the counter and propped up against a stool. I really didn't pay her any attention until one of the waitresses asked her if they could help her. Her answer?

"I'm waiting on my baby's daddy. He went back there for his check." And she pointed to the back area of the Waffle. She laughed and then said, "He's my fiance**."

Then we were served our food. We had both ordered a side of grits***. They came swimming in a bowl of butter. My friend is a bit a of a health nut (kind of hard to do at WH) but neither of us could handle these grits. After we had given them back to the waitress, we were like, "DOH! We need a picture!" But we weren't going to risk asking for them back so that we could prove to others how much butter was in the bowl. More butter than grits. Let's just leave it at that.

The high waitress came by and said some incoherent stuff about grape jelly.

After eating our food**** sans grits, we were ready to pay. I was treating my friend since she had been helping me paint and all I had was my check card. The girl at the check out picks up the phone, listens and runs my card. It doesn't work. She does it again. Then she picks the phone back up and tries my card again. Then again. Then again. Then she yells in the direction of the back, "Get off the phone!"

I give her my card again to try it again and the phone rings. She answers and speaks to the person on the other end - her answers get shorter and shorter while her face gets redder and redder. Then she slams the phone down. And yells out, "You can get the phone, people playing damn prank calls on Waffle House!"

She starts trying to get the card machine to work again and as she's yanking my card through with a force unbelivable for her size, she's mumbling about the damn machine and piece of shit she works for and cheap ass SOBs. The card machine gods finally show us mercy and we're out of there.

It may have just been my friend and I but we couldn't stop laughing. It was the stereotypical experience I've ever had and it just seemed to keep coming.

Oh, I love my life.


*No Harm meant, I love Waffle House
**If you've never had the distinct pleasure of hearing a redneck say, "fiance" then you are missing out. I'll try to give you a good idea, it goes something like this: "Fe-Iannc-SAY" where they add an extra sylable on the middle sound. It's a treat.
***If you don't like grits or if you haven't tried them, then you should. They are yummy. Maybe just not at a WH.

****which was very good

2 comments:

The Pink Chick said...

Gotta love The Waffle House! This is a great story!!!

The Carlisles said...

it so sounds like our last trip to the huddle house.. we ate breakfast at 11:30PM and there was also a shift change...we also had a waitress who had a lack of teeth.. and yes my grits were swimming in butter also! Wonder if they put so much butter on them to cover the "old" taste...hmmm...