The waffles were made of flour, air and a prayer, but with a lot of syrup they were edible. The rest of the meal.....sausage, bacon, bisuits or whatever was equally non-memorable.
However, sitting at one's table watching the Waffle House's varied (cough) clientel come and go was well worth the price of admission. I knew that any mornng of the week I WOULD definitely see a table for eight filled with local old geezers all with blue jeans and their John Deere caps on, having great gab fests over hot mugs of coffee.
I still miss the days of that familiar roof looming ahead in the distance while driving the various highways throughout the middle west and south.
Leni
A while back I drove my favorite uncle home, some eight hour drive. He was in his eighties and his wife kept him on a strict diet, which I pretended not to know about. When it was time to eat, He would suggest stopping....always at Waffle House, where He would have breakfast. We had breakfast three times that day....I loved that man, He was as a second father to me...He’s gone now but I will see him again.