Scattered, Covered, Smothered…..

If you’re a Waffle House fan, you probably knew immediately from this post’s title that we’d be talking about Waffle House food.  Yup, those are some of the terms you use to describe how you want your hash-browns and what you want on them.  I always order mine smothered and scattered, which means that they add diced onions and they spread out the hash-browns on the grill to fry them up nice and crispy.  Yummy!

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Thursday was the Commander’s birthday.  We had decided to wait until our regular “Date Night” on Friday to go out to celebrate.  I had given him his choice of any restaurant he wanted and he surprised me by picking the Waffle House.  It’s not exactly prime dining.  It’s more of a little hole in the wall truck stop cafe.  No problem, though.  I enjoy their food.

We headed over and pulled into an empty parking lot.  Hmmm!  When we walked in, we were a little startled to discover that we were the only ones in the place besides the cook and two waitresses.  The head waitress (who was training a new girl) called out, “Welcome!  Please have a seat wherever you would like.  There are plenty of choices.”

We sat down and perused the menu, which isn’t terribly complicated.  When it came time to order, I gave her my order.

“GREAT choice,” she enthusiastically said. “And for you, Sir?”

The Commander ordered.

“WONDERFUL!  That’s a FANTASTIC choice,” she gushed.

Gosh, it was only eggs, hash-browns, and waffles.  Maybe she was demonstrating positive reinforcement to the new waitress.

About every three minutes, she’d walk the three or four strides over to our table and ask us if she could get us anything else.  I asked for more butter.  She brought it with a flourish that would have made a magician proud.

At one point in our dinner, another customer came in.  He had dreadlocks down to his waist.  Whew!  The attention was off of us for a few minutes as they scurried over to set a menu in front of him.  I couldn’t help but hear the conversation (these places are TINY).  It seems that he wanted no pork, whatsoever and the grill couldn’t have any remnants of pork on it.  Oh, oh….the Commander had just had them cook up a ham and cheese omelet.  No problem!  The cook immediately started cleaning the grill.

The new customer asked, “What kind of meat is a rib-eye?”

The two girls consulted with each other.  “We’re not sure but we could call the manager and ask him, ” they replied.

The Commander and I raised our eyebrows.  “It’s beef,” I said under my breath.

They finally figured out it was beef but then he wanted to know what part of the cow the cut came from.  Oy!  Now they were really scrambling.  Before they could get too frantic, he suddenly decided on chicken.  I was happy to note that he didn’t ask what kind of meat that was.

That little diversion didn’t last long enough before our waitress was once again at our table.  “Can I interest you two in some dessert this fine evening?” she inquired.

Nope, we didn’t want dessert; just the check which she brought to us which we then brought back to her after taking the 3 steps to the cash register.

When we walked out and got into the car, both the Commander and I started to laugh.

“Wow,” I said, in between giggles,” She was certainly outgoing.  I was afraid that they were going to bring out violins to serenade us if we’d stayed much longer.”

“She was a little over-the-top,” the Commander assessed.

“Well, I think I’d rather have a super-friendly waitress than a rude, surly one,” I countered.  “Bless her heart. At least she learned what a rib-eye was today.”

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Hot Flashed Funk

  • A rib eye? isn’t that from the eye of the cow?


    Is common sense completely disappeared from the world?


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