I went to college in a small town where, aside from a smattering of college bars, they rolled up the sidewalks at 10 PM. So, like all good liberal arts majors, we hung out a lot at the Waffle House. A LOT. We were regulars.
One Saturday night I was there with two friends, nursing coffee and cigarettes after our 1 AM “dinner,” when our favorite waitress, Dawn, came over to our table.
“Y’all got anything to do right now?”
It was a quarter-to-two and we were at the Waffle House. No, we did not have anything to do.
“Well, our dishwasher just quit, and the bars are about to get out, and we have a huge stack of dishes back here… If y’all will wash them, we’ll take care of your ticket…”
The three of us looked at each other and without discussion gave a resounding “YES!”
So we got up, went around the bar and got to use the cool countertop dishwasher thingy. Our hope was that some of our other night-owl friends would come in while we were scrubbing up, but no luck. It became a story that only the other two could confirm. It was magical.
– Shannon A.