Waffle House is KING!!!

You think I'm lying? I'm not! Waffle House has to be one of the greatest restaurants ever!

Yeah, yeah, I know. "SD! But...you're a liberal! You're a vegetarian! How could you?!"

Now, now....settle down, my children. I have not turned conservative (fuck no!), nor have I started eating meat again. Here, I will list the magnificent joys of this...this...HEAVEN! (And when you see why I love this place, you will, too!)

*The waffles are out of this world. They're soft, slightly sweet, and melt in your mouth. Best ever. Nobody even comes close. IHOP, you say? Fuck IHOP! Pancakes are lame, anyway!

*They're open 24 hours! Yeah, your beloved IHOP is also open 24/7 (in most places). But let's be real. If you need a 3 am dinner, or if you've just enjoyed a night of partying, what's the first place you think of going? Waffle House! Again...fuck IHOP and everyone who likes IHOP.

*It's cozy! You come in, you sit your ass down, and you chillax. Oh! Oh..you don't get to chillax at IHOP? You have to wait a million years for the disinterested hostess to seat you? Awww. Only a few booths at Waffle House, which means that the staff is able to be more attentive to your wants and needs? IHOP? Hey, forget about it!

*The HASHBROWNS! With it's smothered, covered, diced, peppered, capped goodness! Pure comfort food.

*The clientele! Especially in the middle of the night! The drunks and rednecks that come in and talk junk are a riot! And it almost always ends up as an altercation and/or an eviction from the restaurant by the manager. Free entertainment, you can't beat that! Really, you'd have to go to a Waffle House at 2 am to see what I mean!

*The staff! They're very nice, very hard-working people. At least to me. Bernadette at the IHOP? Did she refill your coffee without an attitude? Didn't think so.

*The sentimental value. Yes, I'll admit it. I've spent a couple of middle-of-the-night dinners at Waffle House with a special someone. It sounds weird, but I think I have more special memories at Waffle House (and other cheapy restaurants) than at the fancy, needlessly expensive places. Hell, one couple adores Waffle House so much, they did this! (Not something I would do, but hey, to each his own.)

And there you have it. Waffle House rules. If you disagree, you suck.

p.s. I don't hate IHOP. I just prefer a certain other restaurant over IHOP. You probably don't have the foggiest idea what restaurant it is, do you? Mwahaha.

An open letter from a hater.

Dear Chick-Fil-A:


Kindly get the fuck over yourself. You are a fast food joint. You can offer a dessert menu in that oh-so-cute little leather booklet all you want to, you are still a fast food joint. (BTW, doesn't leather clash with the philosophy of your dyslexic Cow mascot? Hmmm....) You can carry a tray of carrot salad to all the breeders' tables that you want to, you are still a fast food joint. You can impress all the entitled, Oprah-salivating, Croc-wearing, coupon-wielding breeders that you want with that humongous pepper grinder, you are still a fast food joint. You can brag about how "healthy" your foods are all you want to, you're still a fast food joint. Just because you use real chicken, and make lemonade with real lemon, doesn't make it healthy. You use enough sugar in both your lemonade and your iced tea to recreate Santa's workshop at the North Pole. And your beloved "Chikin" is loaded with sodium. So don't front. You are a fast food joint. Oh, but please, please continue to gloss over that fact by calling yourself a "Quick Service Restaurant." It only makes you look foolish. Because you know, I know, and your bestest buddy Jeebus knows that you are a fast food restaurant.


Oh, and managers...chill the fuck out. I swear, whenever one customer comes in, it's like a code blue at the hospital! You practically scramble every single employee from every corner of the universe, just to take this poor schmuck's order, and he hasn't even decided what he wants yet! Nobody will have a heart attack if you don't fellate them right away. This is not the sinking of the goddamn Titanic. Relax.


End.

35 minutes...or you're fired!

Why did I put this .jpg here? Meh, I felt like it.

Anyway....I didn't think my job could be any more ridiculous. What? I didn't!

It was a very slow night, so I was milling around, doing menial chores...I was that bored. All of a sudden, my dork manager is in front of me, informing me of some new rule. I silently sigh, expecting to hear something ridiculous.

"Okay, what's the new rule?" I ask.

"All employees are now mandated to take 35-minute breaks," the manager explains. "If you take a break that is less than 35 minutes, that puts you in a terminable position."

I didn't think I heard him correctly.

"Wait....what?"

"Your break has to be 35 minutes, no less. If you take a break that is less than 35 minutes, you can lose your job."

*Blink*

"We really like you a lot, SD," the manager says with pleading eyes, "Please don't put yourself in this position."

I, still in disbelief, press on: "What if we take 30-minute breaks, right down to the minute?"

"If your break is less than 35 minutes, then that is the factor that can cost you your job."

"Okay," I say, still in shock, "What happens if we go over 35 minutes, say, 37 minutes?"

The manager repeats, "If your break is under 35 minutes, you get fired."

I manage to stand there before uttering, "Umm....thanks for letting me know."

"Hey, my pleasure," the manager says before making his "new rule" speech to other employees.

After two minutes, while the manager is updating the rest of the crew, I go up to him, trying my hardest not to laugh, and say, "Hold on, Manager. This has to be a joke." The manager looks at me with the most serious face I've ever seen and says, "SD, look at my face." Gee, do I have to? "I am not laughing. This is serious." I start to lose my resolve, and while I unsuccessfully try to hide my smirk, I say, "This is the most backwards thing I have ever heard!" Now the manager was starting to get impatient. He says my name with a stonier look and an even stonier voice, as if he's about to lecture me. I interrupt him and say, "No, no, no---I understand that rules are rules. It's just that I've never been in trouble for being early." "All right," the manager says, desperate to get away from me, "as long as you understand."

The reason that the owner of my workplace is mandating 35-minute breaks is to keep the Department of Labor satisfied. In the past, employees have been miscalculating their break times, coming back 29 minutes early. Technically, this is illegal by DOL standards. The owner wants to make sure that all employees abide by the rules so his business is safe, and that is completely understandable.

What is not understandable, however, is the immediate firing of anyone who goes under 35 minutes. I could agree with progressive discipline (verbal warning, written warning, suspension, termination), but not outright termination. Basically, if someone loses track of the time, and if they clock in just a few seconds shy of 35 minutes (because our clocks only record minutes, not seconds), that person is at risk of losing their livelihood. It's kind of extreme, in my opinion.

Plus, employees lose money from it. Let's just say a full-time employee (like me) works 5 days a week, and takes one 35-minute break a day. Compared to the previous 30-minute mandated break, that's an extra 25 minutes a week, and an extra 50 minutes every pay cycle. So I'm losing close to an hour's pay on each paycheck. It may not seem like much, but it does add up. That's money that I could be putting in my gas tank, money that I could use to buy groceries, or money that I could use for my own personal benefit.

So...yeah. Never a dull moment here; every time I think this place couldn't be any more silly, they always surprise me!

Oh no, I didn't! Oh yes, I did!

*sigh* What. A. Day.

I really don't think I have encountered so much rudeness in one day in my entire life. Here's what happened:

*I'm at the register during a lunch rush about to assist a couple, but as they come to my station, 4 little brats, summoned by their dopey father, come to me with coupons in hand, begging for their free ice creams. I summon the couple, who look pretty pissed about being disrespected (rightfully so), as they make a hand motion that gives me permission to service these little shits first. The kids keep yelling, "We want ice cream! We want ice cream!" So I reply, "Here's what's going to happen. I will get you your ice cream, but first, I am going to help these people first, because they were nice enough not to cut in line!" And with that, I summon the couple, who look pleasantly surprised. The children were crestfallen for the three minutes before I handed them their ice creams. The dad didn't really care either way, he was staring out in space sipping his god-awful sweet tea (oh, you Southerners!).

*During this same lunch rush, 10 minutes later, a 10-year-old boy comes to me with his free ice cream coupon. I give him the ice cream. He stares at the ice cream with disdain, gives me a dirty look, then walks away. Oh hell no! I immediately leave my station, not giving a damn if it's busy, and go straight to the table where the boy and his mother are (and another woman, probably another moo friend of hers). I say, "Your son was rude and gave me a dirty look. The two cows proceed to laugh. "It's not funny," I reply sternly. As soon as the moos shut up, I turned to the boy and said sharply, "If you don't want the ice cream, then give it back to me....now!" The boy hesistantly hands the ice cream to me. I snatch it, and return to my post. At that point, I wouldn't have cared if I got a complaint, and surprisingly, I didn't. It's ironic, because breeders are usually the first people to bitch when someone hurts their pweshus Aiden's feelings.

*Later that evening, when it wasn't too busy, I tried to be as friendly as possible to this toothless, hillbilly couple with a baby. I said, in my friendliest voice, "Hi, how are you today?" "Would you care for a refill?" "Is there anything I can get for you?" The husband was polite to me, his moo cow wife just kind of stared at me. Maybe she was high on moonshine, I don't know. When I noticed the moo getting up to leave with her baby, I was about to wish her a good night until I noticed that she left her table completely trashed. I said, "Thanks so much for cleaning up! I'd love to see your house sometime!" The moo continued to go out the door, ignoring me.

*After my shift, I decided to go to McDonald's for their fries. I needed cheap and quick food, and since I am a veggie, this is the only palatable food at McDonald's (at least to me). So I go to the register and order a large fry from the indifferent cashier, and then I sit down with my food. 2 minutes later, I realize that I do not want to eat in a dirty restaurant with screaming kids, so I put my fries in the paper bag, then put it in my purse. As I leave, I notice the cashier pointing to me and saying to her coworker, quite loudly, "That fat girl ate all those fries so fast!" Oh hell fuck no! I march up to the counter to the cashier and say, "Excuse me, young lady, what was that?" The cashier flings her long, fake nails and says, "I jussaid you ate the food all fast and errthang, dassawl." "'That fat girl,' right?" I say. The cashier just rolls her eyes and scoffs. I reply, "And that's why you're going to be working here for the rest of your life, because of your fucking attitude!" As the cashier's eyes widen with shock, I, using very deliberate movements, take the fries out of my purse and and pour them on the counter. "You can eat these crusty fries. Maybe you'll eat them faster than I did!" And with that, I storm out, all while hearing the cashier complain about having to clean up the mess. I didn't even bother asking for my $1.75 back. Mature of me? No. Classless? Maybe. Deserved? Oh hell yes!

Lately I've just been having this "I don't give a fuck" attitude, and I wasn't going to let a bunch of morons get away with being assholes. Nope.