You need to make this a priority. Seriously, Waffle House represents us like nobody’s business. I’m not talking about Sunday at 11:30 right after church Waffle House, I’m talking about Thursday at 23:30 Waffle House.

In only a few savoury moments in the parking lot, you see a feral animal scurry by. You were pretty sure you were in a nice neighborhood, but now you’re second-guessing the heavily-tattooed gentleman leaning against the dumpster beside the restaurant. Against your best judgement, you enter. The smell of tobacco hangs in the air… even though smoking in restaurants here has been illegal for over 10 years. Every surface in the restaurant isn’t dirty… you can’t point to a single glaring health concern, but for some reason you can’t convince yourself it’s clean. Everyone around you seems cheerful and happy, but at the same time… an aura of depression seems to propagate from every crevice. The smoke smell suddenly becomes stronger, more pungent almost, as a woman appears at your table. You’d be equally alarmed to learn that she’s 20, or that she’s 80. You can’t even process the perfectly-normal “what’ll it be, hon” because your soul is being pierced by eyes that long for anything other than this. It’s all you can muster to order a Grand Slam, and feel like an idiot because you’re not at Denny’s at all. After you’ve collected yourself enough to order a waffle and some hash browns, you notice the tattooed fellow from earlier is now hunched over the grill, head-banging like it’s 1992 and he’s in the front row of a Rob Zombie concert. There’s no music in the restaurant, and he has no headphones on or in. Just as you’re beginning to wonder what unfortunate events befell everyone here… and what could have been so tragic in your life that you’re even here…The food appears. It looks… good. Too good. And it tastes good too! How can this be?! It’s as though a little ray of sunshine is emerging from your plate… which literally contains a waffle and some potato. “What’s going on? Did that fellow at the grill mishandle some LSD while preparing my food?!” You continue to eat, and the reality of the world slowly settles back in. You’ve consumed more calories than you ever have to date… and it looks as though you’ve only taken one bite. You’re oddly satisfied, yet vow never to return… until at least next week or so….