At The Diner


At The Diner

Somebody at church asked me if I had made special plans for Valentine's Day.
I smiled widely as I confessed that I had made reservations at the Waffle House.
She waited a polite moment to see if there was more forthcoming, and then burst out in smiles and laughter, and hoped we would have a nice time.
We managed the trek out to the diner just as the snow began to fall.
Everyone was friendly, and the diner was definitely decorated for the holiday.
Service was a little off, but the staff might have been a little worried about the weather.
Snow, in the South, is on a par with Nuclear Armageddon.
We opted for the Manager's Special, because Free Pie.
Food was good, and our fellow travelers seemed more convivial and jovial than usual.
A few casual diners were more than a little surprised to be greeted at the door, and asked if they had a Reservation.
You could see them looking around, making sure that, yes, they were at the Waffle House.
It was fun watching the mylar heart balloons swanning about the air intake of the air conditioning system.
Like a lot of things, the date was mostly memorable for the good company kept and enjoyed.
The drive back was full of peril and drama, more from eejit motorists than actual road conditions.
But we Arrived Alive.
Might do it again.

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