Because of our little jaunt into Tennessee we ended up having a late dinner
in Brevard,
where “late” is “after 9:00 pm when the sidewalks roll up.”
The late-evening eating establishments are rather limited,
which is why we found ourselves eating at The WaffleHouse at 11:30 pm on a Friday night.
I swear,
I never thought I would have the following coversation:
“Ooh, it looks busy.”
“Do you think we'll have to wait for a seat?”
“I hope not.”
We did not have to wait,
as we grabbed the only two seats left at the counter.
There,
we met with our waitresses,
Kloey,
with a “K” and
Fur Ball
(yes, “Fur Ball” was the name on her tag),
which is a nickname given to her when she was 15 years old.
I kid you not.
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