After years of sitting at the low counter and the “stoop” (curb) out front with everyone, I started writing about Waffle House,
our Waffle House. At the time, I needed that specific Waffle House more than ever. Just as quickly as the words and photographs started coming together, though, they stopped. Life often pulls people in different directions, a typical occurrence with no regard to personal connection. You may have known someone for a lifetime, a few years, or only through the occasional shared cigarette in the parking lot, but it doesn’t really matter—no matter how good your intentions or effort may be, time is always pulling.
It’s always been my intent to get back to "Kings Waffle" (both the
ongoing stories and physical place) and there’s been a few visits here and there, but I don’t know if I could pass as a “regular” anymore. Ironically, I moved closer and went even less (and haven’t been
the weekly free coffee winner in nearly five years).
But, I found myself back there last week. Two nights in a row.
These photographs don’t really add to the overall story other than they represent what so many waffle evenings were like years ago (that suburban parking lot can be a special place when the sun's laying low in the summer). I don’t even know if I have anything new to say about the place or the nostalgia surrounding it (and what comes with it). It was nice to be back, though. I like the food at Waffle House, but hardly ever order an actual waffle. In fact, I’m pretty indifferent towards Waffle House as a concept/brand/restaurant. Yeah, the food’s decent, the coffee’s great, and they’re the closest thing many Midwestern highway exits have to a true diner, but I’ve always been more interested and concerned with
my specific Waffle House and the people there. So, yeah, I’m aware of
the disaster-scale thing and I’ve sampled the delicious, somewhat new hash brown bowls, but I’ll gladly drive past four or five closer locations to get to this specific one.
My friend Nathan got married this past weekend. He was in
Chapter 5 (“origin stories"). Groomsmen included: The Mayor [Chapter
5], The Supreme Chancellor [Chapter
2], Ryan Texas Ranger [often mentioned, never pictured], and myself. I know Nathan not
from The Waffle House, but
because of The Waffle House. We first met well outside of the restaurant’s yellow glow, but have definitely shared the majority of our conversations while basking in it. It was an honor to be featured in his wedding party and traveling north for the nuptial-related activities was a good excuse to get a few folks back to watching fireworks beneath the flickering sign.
"Well Ron, it's been a minute," The Wiz [Chapter
2] said when he saw me.
He wasn't wrong.
I’ve got a lot of portraits made of other regulars from back when I myself was a regular. Any bio I write for them probably wouldn’t be current, but it would be a decent representation of how I knew those folks then. To continue this series, the tense needs to shift from present to past. I’ve tried to make time for them (and have made some decent headway here and there), but even when I force myself up to Kings Waffle so I can sit and write in the actual environment, I still run into someone I know and ditch composition for coffee and conversation.
Guess I need to send some text messages and dig up some old notes.
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