We visited my father in Tennessee. He started the moment we arrived talking about the Waffle House. Every morning he said, “Boy, we’ve gotta get over to the Waffle House!” and every afternoon we would accidentally drive by the Waffle House and he would again tell us that we had to go. On our last morning we packed Dad into the car and went to the Waffle House. It took us 15 minutes to get a seat and when the waitress asked us for our order Dad said, “Do you have pancakes?” She replied, “ . . . Sir, this is the Waffle House!”
WL White is an aged fledgling writer . . . who loves ellipses . . . for the drama.