Waffle Housing in the ATL

DISCLAIMER:  Waffle House is not paying Mrs. Yoy for this endorsement.

Among other time killers this afternoon, we picked up Mr. Yoy for a late lunch.

We asked Big E where he wanted to go.  He said something I didn't quite understand, but Mr. Yoy confidently announced that Big E wanted to go to the WaHo.  Hmm...seems like the fix was in.

Not what I had in mind, but I was along for the ride.

The Waffle Houses of my youth were mostly visited at 2 am after a long night of partying.

Back then, it was a rowdy crowd smelling of cigarettes and alcohol.  Most were there to soak up the booze currently wreaking havoc on their drunk bodies with a little smothered and covered action.

I had extremely low expectations.  We walked in with the whole Yoy clan and were immediately greeted by two of the friendliest ladies I've ever happened upon.  They quickly washed down a high chair for Little E and had us seated.

They bantered back and forth with Big E and let him do what he does best: be the biggest ham in the room.  Big E had a captive audience and was in heaven.

Mr. Yoy hit up the jukebox for his six songs for $1.  The ladies didn't even bat an eyelash when Lady Gaga came on in between a bunch of random country songs.  Big E LOVES Lady Gaga.  They sang along with us.

The service was quick and friendly and erased all bad memories I ever had of Waffle House.  Seriously, I was impressed.  I may even shoot an email to their customer service department about our visit.
Still wondering why my kids pick at their low-fat nutri-grain waffles at home and at Waffle House basically unhinged their jaws and swallowed their waffles whole.


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