Monday, November 24, 2008

scattered smotherd and covered

Anyone from Georgia can tell you what that means. Hashbrowns scattered on the grilled, smothered with cooked (with luck) onions, and covered with (processed) cheese (food). Hmmmmm, Waffle House!
I started waiting tables there many years ago because of an offhand comment I made at breakfast there one morning- I said," Looks like you guys need some help" and then I was hired.

I actually started there Thanksgiving Morning 1984. I was a fresh faced 17, the first thing I did was spill a hot cup of coffee down a waitress's back. I still feel bad about that. I worked third shift New Years Eve and almost didn't go back. A drunk puked all over one of my tables and no way in Hell I was cleaning that up. A couple of years later I was dating a certain young man that I thought was The One. You know, I thought (and talked) about him all the time. Drove my family nuts. Then that guy introduced me to what would very quickly become Mr. Holder (although that title would take years to come about). Less than a month later we were living together and the rest is a wonderful story....

But not the point of this post.

I worked at Waffle House some during college and then after to supplement my income. I was very happy to give it up. I still have nightmares/funky dreams about it.

Like last night.
I was cooking at one of the really old ones- by myself, and I got really busy. I was doing okay- just barely. Some guy tried to help me out, but I wouldn't let him for fear it would mess me up even more.
And then in walks one of the old managers I used to know. He left the company with some serious mental issues, but in he walked in my dream, with none other than Michelle Obama. With the red and black monstrosity of a dress.(which doesn't look too bad in that picture, but was awful in my dream. I just couldn't understand why he was hanging our with her and what the hell she was doing in West Nowhere, Georgia in a Waffle House. And then I forgot everything I was cooking and stood there just staring at all those scattered, smothered, and covered hash browns.....

and then I woke up.

Where is Freud when you need him...

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