Waffle House is truly the place to be. I love it so much it hurts.
Several months back, Jennifer and I had a bestie date to the local WH and had a ball.
We strolled in around noon and the chef greeted us by saying, “Good Morning!” We immediately liked him because neither of us are morning people and we felt he understood that and wanted to make us feel like we weren’t lazy millennials that can’t wake up early enough for a normal breakfast.
ANYWAY, we sat down at a booth near the stoves, ordered far too much yummy food and sipped coffee while we delighted in the atmosphere. We also took the liberty to spice up the atmosphere by dropping some coins in the jukebox so all the restaurant could hear our favorite tunes: Our girl Brittany’s (Spears, duh) smash hit “Toxic”, Uptown Funk (it’s catchy, leave us alone) and the Bieb’s infamous jam “Baby”. I am most certain everyone enjoyed us being there.
This paragraph is dedicated to the Waffle House waffle because it’s something special. You don’t even need butter or syrup or anything because it’s perfect exactly how it comes.
Everything about our experience was awesome, but the best part was the company. There’s something amazing about being in the presence of a friend that knows you and loves you exactly as you are. You can be as stupid, as dorky and as embarrassing as you truly are and you’re loved regardless. You can order the “Grand Slam” breakfast and you won’t be judged. You can dance in your booth to Brittany or Justin or hits from early 2015 and it’s completely acceptable in their eyes. You just feel free and blissful.
The moral of this story is that you shouldn’t dismiss trip to Waffle House. Chances are, if you walk in, Jenn & I will be there enjoying some sweet tunes in the middle of the afternoon. (JK we actually work).