The Sun Also Rises at the Waffle House

I wrote this 3 years ago I found it last night while I was going through some things.

Valentines Day begins with the threats of no tips and techniques on how to properly prepare salmonella, Walter a cook is now off the clock and has ordered his chicken cooked for 15 seconds. Fifteen fucking seconds, shit I heat up cold pizza longer that that.
He digs in chewing each piece like bubble gum,

Wrigley’s new flavor Bacon.

I have eaten raw bacon in my day. It is not something that I am proud of, it is not a resume builder. But for fucks sake this guy is eating raw chicken. No one seems to notice except me, and of course I keep my mouth shut/

A weird look invades the mans face. Not quite disgust, more like the face the you make the first instant you smelled a fart that you knew was going to be bad. Next comes surprise then pride. No sign of disgust. One can usually stand the smell of their own farts because in a way it is uniquely yours. You made it, and now you have decided to share it with the rest of the world. Why be ashamed of something that you made?


I am sitting at a table with a Bible, studying for a test that I have this morning. A waitress begins to talk about the study Bible that I am reading. She says that she likes the study version better because it is easier to read. I agree with her. She continues with her duties and returns to ask me if I am a born again Christian. I paused for a moment to think, I have, ever since I can remember anyway, been a Christian. I have always relied on Gods will and faith that my life was in his hands.
“I don’t know.” I said

As soon as I responded to her question I realize that there may be a hole inside me that needs to be filled.

“There is nothing that cannot be fixed with prayer.” She winks at me continues the topic of religion for a moment then wipes down the table behind me and walks through the silver swinging doors that leads to the back of the restaurant.

Could this be a sign? Granted it is not a burning bush, but God works in mysterious ways.

Time has come for shift change. Seven o’ clock in the a.m. solemn faces begin to pour in. The day has begun. No sign yet of the sun, but we all await its arrival/ as the night staff leaves they tell stories of a group of drunks that came in a terrorized the place. I have a feeling that I know the guilty parties. I wish that I could go out on school nights, but for the past few months beer has not been a party favor. My addiction has now turned to Nyquil and Equate PM. I am not substance free in the slightest bit. I have come to a point in my life where I can look back on things in life and say, shit that was dumb, but you know what it was fun. I would not take away one memory

The sky has now turned a bluish tint, the signs of day break are all around us, and the rest of the sky remains black.

I am a pussy. I cannot drink coffee unless it is full to the brim with cream an sugar. This is my fourth cup, and I don’t like what it does to me……liar

A family just came in and I am squatting four seats. Fuck off. I have been here since 5 a.m., this is my seat, and if I leave you are more than welcome to take it, but until then take a fucking seat on the stools. Ok that is not the truthful rendition of what happened, I offered my seat to them, but they did not want to sit in the smoking section. Well excuse the fuck out of me for having a bad habit. I am a tax paying American.

Walter is now on his cell phone, no doubt that he is the envy of the trailer park. Hopefully he is calling poison control to schedule an appointment to have his fucking stomach pumped, due to that little stunt that he pulled with the raw chicken.

His awkward huge hands have trouble dialing the numbers. He stares at the phone the same way that a color blind person would stare at Rubik’s cube, totally fucking clueless. Uh oh, no messages tonight. His code is 500; no doubt his answering machine tape is still tape. Go digital Wally. Come on join in on all the fun. Drop that rotary dial phone, or the cordless whose antennae doubles as a pole vault stick an splurge $11 on a new machine. You can even get one with a chick’s voice, not saying that you are lonely, but fuck man, raw chicken? I took psychology and that is a cry for help. He now starts in on a game of snake,

The sky is now a soft purple, you can see red. I don’t see enough sun rises anymore. I don’t think that enough of us take the time to enjoy the small miracles that happen around us each and every day.

Sunrises are just like flushing toilets, they are both something that we take for granted. We never really wonder if the toilet is going to flush when we sit down, we just go about our business. Just like the sun rise, no one sets their alarm, expecting that the sun will not be there.

The sky has now turned. White faces are clear. Some faces stare out the window, seeing what is going on in the outside world. Others stare at the newspaper, in their own way, seeing what is going on in the other parts of the world, all the while not noticing the miracle that is right before their eyes.

Now a orange glow engulfs the horizon the sun begins it trek across the sky, only to set again, but as surely as it sets we all find comfort in the darkness, because no bad it may seem we all know that the sun also rises.
2/14/2002