waffle in trauma

I don’t remember if I mentioned this one before.

I stopped by a Waffle House one morning a few weeks ago. The cook was sitting on the walkway out front having a cigarette. He was greeting each inbound customer-to-be.

He looked a bit stressed as he told me that everybody had walked out and that he wasn’t going to run the place by himself. He braced a bit as he waited for yet another smart-ass reply that morning. I’m sure he had gotten many. I told him that I felt for what was happening and that I hoped it got better. “Have a good one.” “You, too.” Then, I left.

I don’t know why he was hanging around. None of my business, I guess. No need to be rude to someone for telling it like it is.

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