We got up halfway early for a Saturday and had a nice romantic breakfast at the Waffle House because nothing says love quite like greasy short order food.
Once again, at our closest WH, there were more employees than customers and they were quite boisterous, but we didn’t let that detract from the experience. When the waitress brought over just our double order of scattered and smothered hash browns, as the cook in the background mumbled something about the waffle iron being unplugged, we didn’t let that spoil the mood either (we did get the pecan waffle while we still had half the potatoes left, so really, no harm.) We have vowed that next Valentines Day we will drive out by the Interstate, the Waffle House natural habitat, to see if we will have a nicer time.
I kid, but Waffle House really is on our short list for favorite breakfast places and it should be for you too.
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