What is this mysterious plateful of... stuff? Let me introduce you to the glory of the Waffle House chili cheese omlette, rivaled in satisfaction only by its close relation, the ginormous hashbrown that one can order in various states of culinary splendor. In this restaurant the size of a shoebox, you can order any kind of food you want 24/7. And even though you might die of a heart attack or explosive diahrrea on the way home due to the thousands of grams of animal fat you just consumed, you will die happy from the great service and hot coffee you just had only moments before.
We had the late night munchies after a day of airports, fellow passengers who reeked of stale smoke, and hugs and laughs for hours with long-lost comrades. We needed more than sustenance. We needed good cookin', the kind that calls for a stick of butter per serving or life-threatening quantities of gravy. There in front of us, like an oasis in the desert, was the Waffle House.
So much for Weight Watchers, sensible portion sizes, and spinach salads. I'm here in Hotlanta! Gimme some Waffle House! I've got pepto and the gym at home.
-- Mobilelly Yours, GGG
2 comments:
Ahh, yes...nothing like a good greasy spoon every now and again.
are you in hotlanta or mylanta now? lookin' at that pic gave me heartburn ;)
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