I’m Still Waiting

It’s 5:30 am. I’m waiting, my foot tapping nervously in beat to the music playing in the background. I’m sitting in an orange booth, the leather seat ripped in at least two places beneath me. My menu has been spread on the table for well over twenty minutes.

Five minutes later, I’m still waiting. It would at least be nice to have a cup of coffee while I wait. I remind myself that it’s early – even though Denny’s is open around the clock and I’m only one of two people being served. There are only a couple of people working, after all: the waitress and the cook. “Be patient,” I chastise myself as I watch the waitress scrolling on her phone behind the register.

Finally! A hot cup of black coffee and an actual person standing by my table, taking my order. It won’t be long now before I’ve got hot food in my belly. I’m starving.

I’ve given her most of my order, when I quickly add, “Oh, can I also have a side of grits please?”

Still chomping her chewing gum, the waitress looks at me and without saying a word, points at the menu. Squinting, I read the fine print: “No grits served until 6:00 am.”

I steal a glance at my watch and see it’s 5:52 am – nearly 6:00 am. I give her my best smile and say, “I’m happy to wait for the grits. Just bring them after 6:00.”

Am I hallucinating from starvation or did she really just roll her eyes at me? She makes a major point of sighing while doing so. “Sorry, no grits. He has to cook them.” She gestures with another eye roll toward the cook.

I’m perplexed. My watch now says it’s 5:56 am. I point out to the waitress that it’s within minutes of 6:00 am. She's clearly exasperated now. “Like I said, he has to cook them. No grits.”

Without waiting for a response, she turns and heads back to the kitchen to give the cook my order - sans the grits. I shake my head and try to console myself by laughing at the absurdity of the situation. It's Georgia. It's the South for God's sake! Since when did cooking grits become so complex?

Thirty minutes later, coffee mug’s empty, and I’m waiting - yes, I'm still waiting. Resigned to my unwelcome hungry state, I stand, throw my baseball cap on my head, and shrug into my coat.

"Don't worry about the grits, " I yell sarcastically to the two employees who momentarily glance up at me from where they stand. As if.....

No damn grits. And that is why I no longer go to Denny's.