Musical Chairs, Coffee & Waffle House Drama

There are some things that you just expect when you are on a 3am-after-party-food expedition. Granted at 3am, choice are limited to few establishments.

After partaking in my fair share of cold brew and closing down Coyote Joe’s on Wednesday night, the whole load of us decided food was in order as it was late & we were packing a cool buzz. Never mind that my ass had to get up at 7:00am to finish brocolli casserole. So, personally, I was in need of coffee.

Where else would ya go at 3am on Thanksgiving morning for a little sobriety effort? Why, Waffle House, of course.

We wandered in giggling and cackling about anything and everything. All it takes for me to get tickled is enough beer and somebody else starting to laugh. No shit, laughing & yawning are contagious around me.

We finally played musical chairs long enough, got seated and our waitress came over. She was obviously annoyed that she was working and she was obviously even more annoyed that she was dealing with us. If you have to work that shift, at least make an effort to enjoy it.

Whatevers. This poor chick had the personality of a wet-sweat-sock. She took 2 of our orders, not speaking between, just sort of grunting at whoever happened to be next.

Just as she grunted toward #3, her cellie rang. The fact that she had her cellie on her was no big deal. Even the fact that it rang while she was waiting on us was no really big deal even. But when the bitch cut me off mid-order to answer it, now that just pissed me off. Her side of the conversation went this-a-way.

“I gotta answer this.” She grunted as she lowered her head, still facing our table(presumably so her boss wouldn’t see).

“Hello? Who is this? Who is this?” She acted like she didn’t know who HE was.

“Who the hell is this, I’m at work and I have customers.” Why the hell would you tell somebody you don’t even know that you are currently at work and are waiting on them?

“Jesus, Robert. No, I’m not talking to anyone else.” She DID know his ass.

“How can I be cheating if I’m working?” Apparently, Robert didn’t have any faith that she was truly working. I guess that Waffle House distinct waffle and bacon smell being emitted by her apron wasn’t enough proof.

Taucha, my drunk monkey friend, decideds she wants to talk to Robert. So, the waitress obliges (and takes another little bit of our order). After only 2.7 minutes, Taucha hands her the phone back and says to our lovely server, “Lose him, girl. He’s a dick.”

Mario getting on the phone didn’t help. It made Robert believe that she really was in the cubicle of a bathroom bangin’ the customers.

We all figured Robert would show up waving a semi-automatic threatening to blow up the Waffle House and everyone in it because in his head he believes that his girl was fucking us all.

Get a grip, pal. Let the girl bring home the bacon in piece you loser.


9 Responses to “Musical Chairs, Coffee & Waffle House Drama”

  1. Olga, the Traveling Bra Says:

    OMG! I am sooooo glad you stopped by my blog so I could find YOU! You are absolutely hilarious & I just love how you write! And yes – I would loooooove to come vivit you someday…don’t know when just now, so let’s stay in touch! OK?!?
    Your new fan,
    Olga, the Traveling Bra

  2. Asshats running amuck. Unless you are the people out having a good time, asshats are the only OTHER people out at that hour and that totally sucks!

    Still, made for a funny blog post.

  3. Man, I sure miss the old Sambo’s in OR for feeding a hangover…probably before your time!

    ‘Course they didn’t have cellphones then, but I did meet a gal there once that had three nipples! Probably more than you wanted to know!

  4. Divalicious Says:

    Olga- I swore you were my boss in disquise, lol. Anytime you wanna come out this way, give a shout out and I’m sure we could round up quite the little shin-dig.

    Amy- Asshats do tend to run amuck around this place, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to nurse an oncoming hangover, lol.

    Mushy- Three nipples, huh? Sounds a little Ripley’s Scary House to me. Sambo’s here was indeed before my time, but I used to cure the twitch at Sambo’s on Carillo Blvd. in lovericious Santa Baraba, CA. Thems some good vittles, baby!

  5. Not a Granny Says:

    OMG, were we at the same Waffle House? Thank you for stopping by my blog. I think we are sisters or else twins.

    And I know Sambos that Mushy is talking about…

  6. Over here we either go through the jack n the box drive through or Dennys…but I might have to look into the waffle house…

  7. Divalicious Says:

    Notta Granny- Did you talk to Robert too? Shhheeeesh, what-a-poo he was! I have always felt this strange sensation that I had a long lost twin when I feel happy or pissed out of the blue. I think it must be that psychic twin connection.

    Ms. P- Sweet Jesus, how I have forgotten! How I miss Jack-N-the Crack and their delicious yet disgustingly fattening kangaroo tacos. Nothing like em to cure the onset of a hangover.

  8. I believe its rat meat, but tomato tomatoe…

  9. Divalicious Says:

    I’m cool with eatin gator and roo, but rats? I think I’m gonna spew. BRB.

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