Last Night at the Low Bar, and Our Favorite Kinds of Pie

I was really hungry last night, while driving home from work, and knew the traditional bowl of corn flakes wasn’t going to get it done.

I considered going through the Taco Bell drive-thru, for two or three tacos.  But I’m suspicious of that place during the middle of the night.  The people who work there during those hours look like they’re capable of masturbating into ground beef.  Ya know?  Some guys just send out that kind of vibe:  “I bet that dude wouldn’t have a problem masturbating into ground beef…”

McDonald’s was another option, but it doesn’t sound very good to me.  I like their regular hamburgers (without pickles, of course), but they’re not prepared the right way at 2:30 in the morning.  They taste better during daylight hours, for some reason.

Then I remembered:  Waffle House.  For some crazy reason there’s a Waffle House a mile from our house, and I don’t think there’s another one anywhere within a hundred mile radius.  I could be wrong, but they are definitely rare up here.  And the locals don’t understand that it’s more than just a breakfast place.  It’s always crowded during breakfast hours, then fully dead for the rest of the day.

So, I went there and it was completely empty, except for two guys who looked like they were 17 years old.  One was the cook and the other was the so-called waiter.  I took a seat at the low-bar.  Usually I prefer the high-bar, but they were already sitting there and I didn’t want to be forced into awkward conversation.  The cook had been polishing off a sandwich, and the waiter was eating a plate of sliced tomatoes, with a fork.  What the?

I ordered the breakfast special, which is scrambled eggs, hash browns, toast, and two slices of bacon — for $2.99.  I also had a glass of sweet tea, which was actually fresh this time.  Often it tastes horrible during the middle o’ the night, but it hadn’t had a chance go shitty yet.

And the “waiter” talked to me the entire time.  So much for flying under the radar…  He was a nice guy, I guess, but he talked and talked and talked.  And, according to him the sky is falling and raining glasses that are half-empty.

I asked if they have a lot of drunken people coming in, after the bars close, and he looked at me in confusion.  Seriously?  The people around here desperately need a Waffle House tutorial.  They have this resource right in their back yard, and aren’t taking full advantage of it.  That place was MADE for drunken, late-night eating.  Unbelievable.

The food was good, and hit the spot, and the cynical teenage waiter wasn’t too annoying, either.  I don’t understand how someone could be so bitter and pessimistic at such a young age, but whatever.  It was mildly entertaining.

And as I backed from my parking space, I saw him take a few more tomato slices from the bin, and return to the high bar.  The cook was already there, and I knew they’d spend the next five minutes “critiquing” me.  I mean, what else was there to do?  The place was deader than Kelsey’s nuts.  You know, because the word “waffle” appears in the name.

Today is my birthday, for what it’s worth.  My parents, my brother, Toney, and Steve have called to pass along their best wishes this morning.  It was nice, but I’m going to have to cut this one a little short…  I need to hit the Devil’s Parkway already, and return for another heapin’ helping of paradise.

Please remember to use the Amazon links at the site, while doing your holiday shopping.  It really helps me a great deal, and costs you nothing extra.  Just click through any of them, and I’ll receive a portion of whatever you spend.  Here are two, for your convenience:  Amazon US and Amazon Canada.

For a Question, I’d like to know your feelings on the pie vs. cake debate.  This is a leftover from Thanksgiving…  Which do you prefer?  I love both, and wouldn’t want to choose.  Some people seem to have strong feelings on the matter, but I’m not one of ’em.  What about you?

Also, what are your favorite kinds of pie?  It’s family legend, somehow, that I LOVE lemon meringue.  And it’s true that I like it, but it’s taken on a life of its own, and my grandmother and now my parents and various aunts and uncles associate me with lemon pie.  What the hell, man?  I don’t understand how this got started.  Are you associated with a specific food like that?

In fact, my favorite pie is blueberry.  But I like it cold, right out of the fridge, with some whipped cream.  Warm with ice cream doesn’t flip my switch, it’s gotta be cold.  What’s your favorite?

So, there you go.  I need to go now.  Do with this what you will.  And I’ll see you guys next time.

Have a great day!

Now playing in the bunker
Buy Jeff a beer, he requires a beer.

Comments

  1. Rat Bastard says

    No goddamned cake or pie for me; can’t stand sweets.

    I’m in a sorta hip restaurant here in Shitsburgh that plays sometimes decent music. However, about 20 minutes ago, they played some kinda modern jazz bullshit cover of Fugazi’s “Waiting Room.” What the hell?

    Happy belated Barfday, Jeff!

  2. johnthebasket says

    Jeff…

    I’d sing Happy Birthday to you, but with my voice the only key I can sing in is F-shart.

    Hope it was relaxing and wonderful.

    jtb

  3. aminnev says

    So, I’m only 32 days older than you . . .Happy Birthday, Jeff. Welcome to the 49er club . . . seems to be a few of us here.

    Glad to say no AARP stuff has arrived for either myself or the husband (49!). I must have fallen off that radar. Hope that stuff doesn’t arrive ‘tll I’m 59!

    Pie – Dutch Apple with real vanilla ice cream on the side.

    Cake – Right now I’m loving Costco sheet cakes . . . the frosting is sooooo sweet and creamy.

  4. johnthebasket says

    My favorite birthdays were 0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,34 and 55.

    (yeah, I had two parties that year — what of it?)
    jtb

  5. dto says

    Cake seems like a ceremonial offering. It always shows up at Birthdays, weddings, retirements and deaths. Kind of a “Life Cycle” food…ya know? Pie is more of a utilitarian affair based on what to do with too much of something.. Years ago,In several areas of the country, there were what was known as a “Pie Glut Area”. At each edge of town on the road comming in, billboards were erected to proclaim, ” Fuck you AND your pie”…to let visitors know there was plenty of pie around due to recent backyard harvests.

    I’ve never had a pear pie. Is there a reason for not making pear pies? Around New Mexico we get what’s called a “Frito Pie”…Fritos in the bottom of the bowl…etc. here’s the wickadickyehaa take on it…I make my own with my chilli and bule corn tortilla chips and roasted green chiles…yum.

    Pies…1) Dutch apple /w chedder cheese (although I’m gonna try Swiss one day)
    2) Peach
    3) Strawberry
    4) Blueberry

    Cake…1) Pound cake and peaches or…strawberries or bluebrries……or pears
    2) Chocolate in all configurations
    3) Birthday
    4) Death

  6. Ian the Errolite says

    Happy Belated Birthday.

    This is a recycled question, but the answer remains;

    1 Mince/Scotch Pie
    2 Steak and Gravy
    3 Steak & Kidney;
    4 Other kinds of offal based pies.

    Sweet pies are for children!

  7. chill says

    Speaking of pie, maybe one of you far-flung Reporters can shed some light on this. My mom used to make what she called “black pie”. It’s a single-crust pie with a filling that is sweet, homogeneous, somewhat caramelized, and very dark brown (hence “black”). The texture is somewhere in area of jello or pudding. After baking it may have a very little solidified foam on top. She has refused to divulge the recipe, but when I speculated that it contained molasses she quickly said that it didn’t. And for what it’s worth, her heritage is Texas German via Chicago.

    Maybe it’s the “black” part of black bottom pie, i.e. minus the whipped egg whites?

    Thanks for any help.
    .

    • dto says

      Don’t have a clue.chill…..BUT….since we’re throwing pie WTFs….what the fuck is “Shoe Fly Pie”?

      • johnthebasket says

        dto…

        Have you not seen all the shoes, tied together by the laces, hanging on telephone and power lines? That’s the first step, and the only way I know of making a shoe fly. I guess from there you’d better shoo on out to wikipedia for the rest of the story.

        jtb