My favorite things…in no particular order.

Ahh Waffle House.  Where do I start?  How can one place that is so simple, so cheap and quite frankly is anything but classy be something I long for whenever we travel?  There aren’t any Waffle House’s here in south central Texas, I think the closest one is about two hours away.  Don’t get me wrong I love the place but I’m not going to travel that far one unless I’m traveling.  Great place for breakfast during a road trip.  Must have eaten there about 4 or 5 times in one week last summer on a trip to North Carolina.  Back when we used to live in Georgia, “you couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting one of those places.”  The best was when we (meaning me and the drinking buddies) used to hit the Waffle House at about 3 or 4 in the morning.  For some reason the food tasted better then and at that hour you could sometimes count on a show too.  I’m not going to get into all the menu items and all the ways you can get your hash browns.  Those of you that are experienced already know and the others can find out on their own.  So here’s to my favorite Greasy Spoon…the worst poem ever written.  H/T to Mom for the link.

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2 Comments on “My favorite things…in no particular order.”

  1. Darryl Says:

    What up Bro! I couldn’t agree more on the wonders of Waffle House. I was TDY to our old stompin’ grounds in GA last year and my hotel was directly across the street from the oasis. I ate breakfast there every day. BTW, I like my hasbrowns smothered and covered!

    P.S. I love the blog Bro! Big thanks to sis for the hookup. I’ll be checking in regularly.

  2. freelancer21 Says:

    I, too, was a Waffle House junkie. I remember the time I went searching for a young man and I told him I would be at the Waffle House on the corner of upmty squat street and I-75. I waited and waited for hours.

    Feeling dejected, I left and continued on through my journey.
    What a surprise it was to hear that he was at another WH location just blocks away.

    I was a road warrior for years and the WH was my home away from home for weeks and sometimes months at a time.

    These days, I don’t get so excited when I see a WH. There’s a line they need to add to that poem—“where every booth is a throne”…”and you’ll find a hair in every plate”.

    But for some hard core folks (the ones that have shrines to WH), nothing will keep them from entering the WH palace.

    I’ll just stay outside and eat my bologna sandwich.


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