Waffle Whores (723 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.73 on 31 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Drew "ajanssen" Janssen (View user info) at 2007-03-14 13:17:38 EDT
Being a redneck Texan, Waffle House was at one time a staple part of my well balanced diet.
The one I used to frequent was a real seedy one on the outskirts of Dallas. I knew exactly what to expect from the clientele when I noticed all the parking spaces were extra long to accommodate 18 wheelers. The place is a haven for derelicts of all social categories, but most of them are from the white trash spectrum. Biker trash, truck drivers, lot lizards, and really anybody who has ever been bold enough to grow a mullet or drive a primer gray Trans Am.
"Now Drew, what would a respectable person like yourself be doing at such an establishment?"
Doing the Lord's work, that's what.
After a long night of drinking Bud Light or Keystone Light or a horrible combination of both, I would usually try to shake my hangover with grease that has been battered and then deep fried in grease and served with a side of grease.
Waffle House was all too happy to help me get my grease-fix. Plus, I could roll out of bed hungover, flick the dried vomit from my chin, throw on some flips flops, and be on my way. No teeth brushing, face washing, showering, clean clothes gathering, or any other basic hygiene was required prior to the trip. Amazingly, as disgusting as I was when I usually went for breakfast, I still was a sight to look at when compared to other diners. What I won't do to boost my ego.
I strolled in at about 1 o'clock on a Sunday afternoon, pondering if I could ever declare Waffle House a church and start a cult. Who would be my followers? Should I move to Waco? My thoughts are rudely interrupted as I open the door. In the corner there is an old grimy jukebox with yellowed glass from years of smoke and layers of grease. This morning it is loudly blasting one of their signature songs "Waffle Doo Wop". A small group of elderly, after church people have gathered and are waiting for a few booths to become available. These are the type of elderly people that play bingo and if I was a gambling man I'd bet at least half of them drove wood paneled station wagons. What appears to be the eldest man is tapping his SAS shoe and clapping completely off rhythm to the music.
I stop for a moment to absorb this whole situation. My head is spinning from a combination of stagnant cigarette smoke, the stench of burnt grease, and this outlandish tribute to waffles blaring from the jukebox. I leer at the elderly man that is softly clapping. No doubt he is the villain behind this music. He is older than I first assumed. He is a shriveled, wizened old man with a slight hunch. His weather beaten face is wrinkled and looks surprisingly like a piece of fried chicken. God I'm hungry. It's hard hear myself think with that fucking music though. Its all his fault. Fucker. Reach out and grab a flap of his skin, Drew. I bet it feels just like a Louis Vuitton handbag. C'mon pussy. Christ Almighty. Now is not the time to argue with myself.
I amble over to "the bar". A strip of counter that separates diner from the Grease Pits of Mordor and the rest of the kitchen. The entire kitchen can be seen while sitting at the bar, giving the diner full view of who is cooking your food and how they're cooking it. Tonya quickly approaches to take my order. I am a little embarrassed about the events that took place last week when I was here. I had just eaten a pile of bacon and half-cold bowl of chili and was waiting for a new order of hashbrowns when the Bud Light from the night before grabbed ahold of my colon all at once. The bathrooms at Waffle House are one-at-time stalls and not secluded at all. I barely had time to pull my pants down and as I spun around to sit down I sprung a leak mid-spin. The corner and back wall were sprayed. Then the bowl-splattering mother load came. I wasn't about to clean it and I was beginning to choke from the smell. There was no fan to vent this personal hell I had created. I stumbled out the bathroom with a vile cloud following me. I tried to quickly flee the crime scene but Tonya had spotted me. I paid by bill and quickly left.
It's been a week, hopefully she doesn't recognize me. How many people got fired for refusing to clean my feces before someone volunteered? Maybe Santos the Mexican busboy/Waffle House bitch cleaned it. What went through his mind when he saw it? Had it had time to crust up yet?
What was the consistenc-
"What can I get you, darlin'?"
Its Tonya. I stare blankly for a moment. She cracks a smile. FUCK FOR FUCK SAKES!! She is missing teeth and the ones she does have are long and yellow and look alarmingly like broken corn dog sticks. I drop my head and stare intently at the menu. The combination of tartar build up
and my embarrassment about the diarrhea incident is making me very uneasy.
"Hmmm..."
"Well, I'm taking a smoke break. Just holler at Sheila the fry cook when your good and ready and she'll get you all fixed up."
"Thanks" I manage to mumble before she waddles off.
I already know what I wanted to eat. I just didn't want to look Tonya in the eye, or in the garbage disposal she had for a mouth for that matter. Are there people that actually get blowjobs from her? Surely some trucker has taken his chances out back behind the dumpster with her. I'd just as soon shove my cock in the blender. God help that poor soul wherever he is. Could my dick get a cavity from such an encounter? What about gingivitis?
My thoughts are drowned out once again, this time by the knots in my stomach. I'm fucking starving and the burnt grease is smelling better and better.
"Hey Sheila, gimme a Texas double cheesteak!" This type of cheesteak puts to shame any kind of horseshit manufactured by Philly.
I also request my hashbrowns smothered but not scattered and give the universal Waffle House hand gesture that means "If you don't mind please ladle a pint of that melted Crisco in my hash browns while they're cooking."
She mistakes this for my "come hither" gesture and approaches the bar.
The early afternoon sun is filtering through the windows and reflecting off her shiny forehead directly into my eyes.
"Can I help you?"
"Yeah, why don't you go ahead and double up on the Crisco, Sugar-tits". I finish the sentence with my best trucker style "wink".
She laughs and it is very obvious that all her teeth are intact and not filmed over with tartar and other kinds of foul, mouth rot. I would like to think that I'm just a funny sumbitch but she might have been laughing because of the vomit crust on my chin, sleep in my eyes, and unruly hair
style I woke up with this morning. Either way, the wheels in my warped head start spinning again.
Sheila is obviously new here. She is unchartered territory. It's only a matter of time before she
A. gets fingered by Santos
B. gets suckered into girl on girl, butch sex by Tonya
C. engages in forced oral sodomy with drifters and migrant workers
D. a simultaneous combination of all 3
She isn't hot by any means but not altogether ugly. Maybe homely is a good way to describe her. But she is fucking top notch by Waffle House standards. I'll be damned if I get outdone by Santos,Tonya,or those goddamn migrant workers.
I decide I'll do what any red-blooded American would do. Get her behind the outhouse for some good ol' fashioned sportfucking.
My ensuing conversation with Sheila is meaningless. I'm talking but not really paying attention. A hundred questions are running through my mind. Is it possible to fuck a girl named Sheila? How long do you suppose it took to accumulate enough sweat and grease on her forehead to make it look spit-shined? Should her forehead be shinier than the silverware? Has she ever lived in a trailer? Does she chain-smoke Pall Mall cigarettes? Would my friends disown me is they ever foun--
".....and that's how we render the pork fat that flavors the chili." She
smiles proudly.
I snap out of my multiple personality conflict and give her my undivided attention. I think she was giving me "insider" Waffle House cooking strategies. This information could be priceless.
After my soggy meal, I leave Sheila a good tip and ask if she maybe wants to meet up later on to discuss the finer points of mixing pancake batter.
"No sweetie, I don't date people that dine here."
WHAT?? Have I been shot down by this queen of the trailer park? My pride and
ego will simply not allow this. Completely unacceptable.
It has been over a month and I visit that shit-hole constantly. I have to fuck her at least once to regain my pride. I owe it to myself and my penis. I visit at least 6 times a week but she rejects all my advances.
Guess I'll have to slip a Mickey in the waffle batter
User Reviews
Submitted by TuTs (user info) at 2007-04-25 10:42:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
hehe You have me darlin. It's a public holiday here so guess what my hangover had for breakfast? McDonalds hotcakes. mmmm. Not that I've ever tried to fuck ronald.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2007-04-25 10:41:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is awesome.
Submitted by consuelo212 (user info) at 2007-03-15 14:47:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-03-15 12:02:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
My favorite waitress was named Sunshine.
Submitted by BadAssJulie (user info) at 2007-03-15 10:05:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
What is a lot lizard?
Submitted by sweetcheebs (user info) at 2007-03-15 08:38:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 cause I'm hungry for some waffle house.
Submitted by I_love_Kracka (user info) at 2007-03-14 23:51:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I went back and re-read this. You were at the Pit Grill - right?
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-03-14 21:36:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yup
Submitted by paul_anthony (user info) at 2007-03-14 20:24:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
what he said below
Submitted by sideshow (user info) at 2007-03-14 16:51:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by DirtyHarry (user info) at 2007-03-14 16:37:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good luck with that.
Submitted by DirtyHarry (user info) at 2007-03-14 16:37:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good luck with that.
Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2007-03-14 15:13:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
makes me want steggs.
Submitted by MidnightToSix (user info) at 2007-03-14 14:58:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Everything was well and good until:
"She is unchartered territory."
It is 'uncharted' territory. As in unmapped, unexplored.
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-03-14 14:53:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-03-14 14:39:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
D. a simultaneous combination of all 3
Submitted by Hilarity_Ensues (user info) at 2007-03-14 14:35:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Jesus Christ do I fucking love Waffle House.
Submitted by I_love_Kracka (user info) at 2007-03-14 14:14:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Waffle house has the best coffee
Submitted by JulsInsane (user info) at 2007-03-14 14:11:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by ajanssen (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:37:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Youve obviously never been to Dallas and yes Sheila's boobs felt like Michael Kors kitten heel pumps
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Im fairly certain its in Texas, which is about all I know about Dallas... ohh wait JR Ewing was from Dallas right? SUE ELLEN!
Submitted by messmind (user info) at 2007-03-14 14:09:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yeah, more whores !
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-03-14 14:06:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:54:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Someone did a song called "Waffle House Whores." I can't recall who exactly. My gut says G-Love & Special Sauce, but I could be wrong.
I hate that I can remember details about stupid songs I pulled off the campus network back in college.
Submitted by The_Drake (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:39:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:18:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
WTF, I'm not reading all of that.
Submitted by ajanssen (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:37:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Youve obviously never been to Dallas and yes Sheila's boobs felt like Michael Kors kitten heel pumps
Submitted by JulsInsane (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:34:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Reach out and grab a flap of his skin, Drew. I bet it feels just like a Louis Vuitton handbag.
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Some redneck you are, you know what LV feels like. Next thing you will tell me Sheila's boobs felt like Michael Kors kitten heel pumps
Submitted by Grownasskid (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:31:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
those are some pretty strong cheesesteak claims your making
Submitted by tiaprae (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:26:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Yougotthatright (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:26:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Waffle House = Righteous Grease at 3 a.m.
Submitted by Alcoholocaust (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:26:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
you get the 2. but I don't think I'd do Shelia... Tanya maybe
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:23:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Love the Waffle House and I love me some whores.
Not much missing here.
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:23:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
"Being a redneck Texan"
______________
You lost me there you fucking dickthumper. Either you SHUT THE FUCK UP or I will rip your tongue out from the roots with a pair of rusty pliers.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2007-03-14 13:18:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
WTF, I'm not reading all of that.