Accused of Stealing

My brothers came from Arkansas to spend the night with me last night and this morning before they went back home we went to go eat breakfast. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before how much I love the first meal of the day. It’s my favorite and if it didn’t require waking up too early or washing dishes I would make myself a home cooked breakfast every morning. That being said, it’s been a while since I’ve had a big breakfast but this morning, my brothers suggested we go eat at Shoney’s. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Shoney’s, as I was until a few months ago, when my mom, grandmother, and brothers were in town and they introduced me to its greatness, it’s a restaurant that has a breakfast buffet. That’s right, there’s a place out there where for one price, you can eat as much breakfast food as your stomach can handle, and that’s just what we did this morning.

It’s not the nicest restaurant in the world, in fact it’s not even the nicest restaurant connected to the shared parking lot of Captain D’s, but I’m willing to overlook the cleanliness of an establishment when I’m hungry enough. There was literally a gigantic puddle of water underneath one of the chairs around the table where we were seated, but who has time to worry about wet shoes when there is unlimited breakfast to be had? We walked to the buffet, and I put a biscuit on my plate, opened of course, topped with some sausage gravy. I may not be the typical southerner that goes hunting and listens to country music, but I am a sucker for biscuits and gravy, which is quite possibly my favorite food in the world. I moved on and put a small spoonful of eggs onto my plate, followed by a heaping portion of bacon. I don’t know what chicken strips were doing on the breakfast buffet but I’m not one to bypass chicken tenders no matter the time of day, so I put one of those on my plate as well. I added a spoonful of fried potatoes for good measure and went back to the table to begin the feast.

The first plate was delicious, but I’m American and it would be a crime of treason to only eat one plate of food at the buffet, so I went back for seconds, to try some french toast sticks, and get some more sausage and bacon, but I feel like that goes without saying. The french toast station was blocked by a man who appeared to be in his early sixties, with hair so long that it should not be allowed that close to a buffet full of food. He had a bowl, not a plate, full of the french toast sticks. I’m not exaggerating in the slightest when I say this man had at least ten of those things in a bowl, and I stood and watched him for a couple of minutes as he ladled spoonful after spoonful of syrup into the bowl until only the tops of the french toast were showing, like cereal sticking out of milk. It was absolutely disgusting but impressive at the same time. I got my food and went back to the table to finish eating. My brother told me he’d already paid the check, when he went to the bathroom a few minutes earlier, so I told them I was going to stop by the restroom to wash my hands and would meet them at the car.

I don’t know why, but generally I avoid anything that needs maple syrup, not because I hate the taste of it, but because I hate the inevitable stickiness that goes along with eating pancakes or waffles, or in today’s case, french toast sticks. It’s like how after you go to the beach you still find sand for days. When you eat syrup, you will surrounded by stickiness for days. That is why I wanted to go to the restroom to wash my hands, to cleanse myself of the mistake I’d made by pouring hot syrup on top of the french toast. When I left I saw my brothers outside waiting by the car so I started to leave the restaurant, and that is when I heard the very angry voice behind me calling out “hey, stop! Come back here!” I turned around looking for the moron getting yelled at but it was only me and our waitress. She looked exasperated and said to me as if she were explaining restaurant policies to a three year old that I can’t just leave without paying. How stupid of me. I told her my brother already paid and and walked outside to see if he had the receipt, which of course he didn’t. A few seconds later the same waitress reappeared having apparently checked the status of our bill and realizing that we had in fact paid. She said we were good to go and didn’t bother apologizing for accusing me of trying to leave without paying. I really don’t know how I wind up in all of these ridiculous situations, but I’m glad that I do, because life would be much more boring without them.


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