Waffle House is one of my favorite restaurants. I'm a cheap date.
Here's what I like most:
1. It's a hole in the wall diner.
2. They have sugar free syrup.
3. It's open 24 hours. You never know when the need for scrambled eggs with cheese, wheat toast, grits, and occasionally bacon will strike you.
4. The lady who laughs like a hyena at the one I frequent. Actually no, I don't like her laugh at all. It's actually pretty annoying. I jumped the first time I heard it.
5. The 'light' portion of the menu includes a ham biscuit, and a chicken melt.
6. They ask me if I'd like my regular when I come in. Yes, thank you, I would.
7. They keep their job applications very accessible, right next to the cash register. I take one when I'm about to have a rough day at work.
8. To apply, all you have to do is list all of your criminal convictions and call their hotline from a quiet landline. Oh! And take the questions seriously. That's what the application says. No tomfoolery folks! These people run a tight ship.
9. My favorite waitress likes 'Twilight'. We talk about it. I forgot her name.
10. Wait, her name's Mel. Mel likes vampires. She's cool.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
It Hurts To Be Beautiful
Have you heard of eyebrow threading?
You can have it done at a booth at the mall. You’d think I would learn after the massages, but I like to try new things.
They lay you down in the chair, comb your eyebrows, and then somehow tie tiny threads around each eyebrow hair and slowly tear them out of your face. It’s awesome.
I don’t remember it being very bad the first time. Maybe I was too stressed about the wedding to really feel the pain. I left with a smooth face, albeit flaming red.
So I went back this week. Since the last time, they’ve moved out of the kiosk and into a storefront. Business must be good, but I’m going to start warning people. People need to know.
The foot massage people next door were a little jealous I chose eyebrows over them. I heard them mumbling at me under their breath as I walked by, but the eyebrow ladies beckoned me in.
Then they sent me back across the mall to the ATM for cash.
Then they beckoned me back in again.
They sat me down in the torture chair and laid me back. I don’t know what was different this time, but tears poured down my face as she slowly pulled my eyebrows out one hair at a time.
I jumped a few times, but she held me down and continued. I’m not one for making a scene. I like to act tough, but I did yell ‘ouch!’ once and told her it didn’t hurt this bad last time. She kept going, unphased, and told me I shouldn’t have waited this long to come back. Is this supposed to motivate me to come back more?!
Then she told me I had a pimple. I asked her what she’d like me to do about it. She didn’t answer. Just kept pulling and handing me tissues.
She upped the anti and made me participate in the torture. I had to use both hands to hold my eye shut and pull my eyebrow up so she could get a better grip. I paid for this. I PAID FOR THIS!
Imagine pulling nose hairs out one by one. Slowly. It’s the closest thing I can think of. At least with waxing eyebrows, it’s one yank, a scream, and you’re done.
My face radiated heat for an hour after. Half way through I vowed never to go again. I’d rather have a unibrow.
Google it. Look up ‘slow and painful torture.’
You can have it done at a booth at the mall. You’d think I would learn after the massages, but I like to try new things.
They lay you down in the chair, comb your eyebrows, and then somehow tie tiny threads around each eyebrow hair and slowly tear them out of your face. It’s awesome.
I don’t remember it being very bad the first time. Maybe I was too stressed about the wedding to really feel the pain. I left with a smooth face, albeit flaming red.
So I went back this week. Since the last time, they’ve moved out of the kiosk and into a storefront. Business must be good, but I’m going to start warning people. People need to know.
The foot massage people next door were a little jealous I chose eyebrows over them. I heard them mumbling at me under their breath as I walked by, but the eyebrow ladies beckoned me in.
Then they sent me back across the mall to the ATM for cash.
Then they beckoned me back in again.
They sat me down in the torture chair and laid me back. I don’t know what was different this time, but tears poured down my face as she slowly pulled my eyebrows out one hair at a time.
I jumped a few times, but she held me down and continued. I’m not one for making a scene. I like to act tough, but I did yell ‘ouch!’ once and told her it didn’t hurt this bad last time. She kept going, unphased, and told me I shouldn’t have waited this long to come back. Is this supposed to motivate me to come back more?!
Then she told me I had a pimple. I asked her what she’d like me to do about it. She didn’t answer. Just kept pulling and handing me tissues.
She upped the anti and made me participate in the torture. I had to use both hands to hold my eye shut and pull my eyebrow up so she could get a better grip. I paid for this. I PAID FOR THIS!
Imagine pulling nose hairs out one by one. Slowly. It’s the closest thing I can think of. At least with waxing eyebrows, it’s one yank, a scream, and you’re done.
My face radiated heat for an hour after. Half way through I vowed never to go again. I’d rather have a unibrow.
Google it. Look up ‘slow and painful torture.’
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Wait Time
My commute has become a lot more interesting since a sign similar to this beauty decided to grace the exit I take:
Now, instead of tapping my foot impatiently at the exit, I use my time to come up with scenarios where this might be relevant information.
Pregnant Wife: Honey, look, the wait time is down to 5 minutes. Let's break my water and get this show on the road!
Man with broken leg: Nah, I'll just wait till tomorrow. Wait time's too long.
Someone with head injury: You know, the bleeding has really slowed down. I think I can wait until the wait time goes down.
I'm baffled as to why someone felt these billboards are necessary, but I found some great information on a couple of websites.
fastcompany.com tells me:
'The Hospital Corporation of America's East Florida Division is using tech to "lure" patients into their emergency rooms.'
And just in case you're at home and can't see your local billboard, they also have an iphone app.
Wait time today: 14 minutes. Too long.
Now, instead of tapping my foot impatiently at the exit, I use my time to come up with scenarios where this might be relevant information.
Pregnant Wife: Honey, look, the wait time is down to 5 minutes. Let's break my water and get this show on the road!
Man with broken leg: Nah, I'll just wait till tomorrow. Wait time's too long.
Someone with head injury: You know, the bleeding has really slowed down. I think I can wait until the wait time goes down.
I'm baffled as to why someone felt these billboards are necessary, but I found some great information on a couple of websites.
fastcompany.com tells me:
'The Hospital Corporation of America's East Florida Division is using tech to "lure" patients into their emergency rooms.'
And just in case you're at home and can't see your local billboard, they also have an iphone app.
Wait time today: 14 minutes. Too long.
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