Field Trip to the Waffle House

I've been bitching and moaning about mentioning, I'm reading No Angel by Jay "Bird" Dobyns, a nonfiction story about an ATF investigation into the Hells Angels.  It is interesting but I am struggling to finish it.  Mostly because I loathe Bird and his incessant need to tell me how tough he is. 

So, seeking a little inspiration, I took a field trip to the Waffle House today.  Why the Waffle House?  Because Bird likes to eat there a lot and discusses it at length in the book.  I thought that I'd try it out the pecan waffles, Bird's favorite, and the whole Waffle House experience. There is a Waffle House nearby.  It is always there, calling to me:  Come, eat our pecan waffles like Bird does.  It will help you finish reading the book so you can blog about it.  Plus, last night some of you egged me on.

I arrive at the Waffle House after doing a little light reconnaissance by looking at the menu online.  When I enter there is a big sign on the door proclaiming “VIDEO RECORDING SYSTEM IN USE FOR MANAGEMENT, TRAINING AND INVESTIGATIVE PURPOSES.”  Okay then.   Low and behold, when I sat down at my table there was the eye in the sky looking down at me.   No wonder why Bird likes the Waffle House.  In fact he says that all cops lurv the Waffle House.  From page 103:

Ah, the Waffle House. A finer undercover cop restaurant there never was. Bad coffee, below-average service, good waffles, easy on the walled and hard on the digestive tract….Has practicality written all over it, especially since, for some bizarre reason, they always have open parking lots with views in three directions, the fourth being blocked by the Waffle House itself. Good for surveillance and a lack of surprises. Yes, when I or any of my law enforcement brothers are cruising down the road and see those eleven yellow squares contain those eleven black letters, there is little we can do but be drawn to them. Like moths to a porch light, except that we crave a cup of coffee in a questionably clean mug.

Feeling smug and wanting to get the complete Waffle House experience, I order The All Star Special with a pecan waffle (natch), scrambled eggs, bacon, and smothered hashbrowns.  I had wanted sausage instead of but they were out.  Out!  Of Sausage?  In the South?  How does that even happen?  That should have been a first sign that things weren’t going to go well for me.  This is way more food than I usually order.  I had no intention of cleaning my plate, just wanted to try a bit of everything. 

My coffee came.  It tasted burnt. And Bird was right.  The mug was questionably clean but the coffee was hot with plenty of cream so I couldn't complain.  

And then my food arrived quickly.  First the bacon.  I didn't realize it at the time, but I probably should have ordered crispy bacon.  Although I didn't know that bacon was served any way other than crispy.  Not limp like it had been par cooked two hours ago and left to warm on the griddle.  Oh, dear reader,  I've never met a piece of bacon I didn't like until today.

Then the eggs and smothered smothered hash browns.  The potatoes were actually good - mmmm carbs. In fact they were the best part of the meal.  The eggs tasted...  well....  they tasted bad.  I took two bites before I decided to ditch the eggs completely.

And finally, last but not least...  the pecan waffle which came with some oil-based butter flavored substance that might, in the academic sense be called margarine.  I tried a bite plain.  It was delicious, nutty goodness.  But I had been advised that syrup was necessary.  And yes, the addition of maple syrup made it even better even though it was not warm maple syrup.

And, then I gave the last bit of pecan waffle that I could reasonably fit in my stomach the full monty:  butter flavored substance and maple syrup.  And it was great.  I happily finished, paid, and left.

I had planned on running a few errands while I was out but once I got to the car I realized that wasn't going to happen.  The "hard on the digestive tract" part of Bird's description of his beloved Waffle House hit me immediate.  I was sick for the rest of the day.  Like with chills and shakes and stomach cramps.  Rather than go in to a lot of detail, here is the text exchange between me and the LSH

9:51 AM, KTD:  Getting breakfast @ waffle house

9:52 AM, LSH:  Lololololol......

9:53 AM, KTD:  For the blog...

10:15 AM, LSH:  Disgusting

10:21 AM, KTD:  At least the waffle's decent

10:24 AM, LSH:  lol

10:31 AM, KTD:  Annnnnd I had to come home immediately

11:19 AM, LSH:  Did you keep down your awful waffle?

11:42 AM, KTD:  I'm dying.  Laying on couch. So ill

12:08 PM, LSH:  Lol ur nuts

2:03 PM, LSH:  R u alive?

2:55 PM, KTD:  Alive.  Barely.

3:10 PM, LSH:  Where ya been?  I called the house.

3:14 PM, KTD:  Waffle House won

3:15 PM, LHS:  lol That bad?

3:15 PM, KTD:  You have no idea

So, I end this post with a delicate stomach and strong resolve to finish No Angel.  Besides, what the hell else am I going to do between now and September when Sons of Anarchy returns?