Late Night Breakfast:

So I had breakfast at Denny's late last night, early this morning, and my waitress was straight from some commune. Like she’s been living in a sort of cult. She was around fifty, plain, no make-up, kind of Pentecostal, with long hair pulled tight into a coiling bun.

She approached the table and said, “Blessed day...might I serve thou some juice?”

I was just struck dumb for a moment and then I summoned up my most reverent voice and answered, “Why yes...yes you most certainly may.”

When she returned she carefully placed my juice down, pulled a pencil from behind her ear, licked the tip, pounced it once on her ticket book and said, “Has thou decided?”

Each time she left my presence she backed away from the table like a butler. My whole meal felt like fine dining. I left her a nice tip. When I took my leave she said, “Thank thee.”

I said right back to her,”No honey, thank thee.”


  1. Love your parting comment, that's great. Am I wrong to fear people of such religious conviction? I get the feeling they all have inner terrorists just aching to get out and destruct things.

  2. I lovest thy blog, wouldst thou be so kind as to lookest at my small contribution to the blogosphere and tellest me thy opinion ?

    I thank thee

  3. HA! Did she serve you low-protein mush and ye olde Koole Aide?

  4. Creepy.

    I wonder if she got shunned or something because those hardcore religions usually have a lot of community support and rarely let the 'wimmin' folk work.

    Especially out in the modern world.

    Now I'm kinda sad.


  5. Goodness! I wish I had known. I would have forced a road trip out there just for that.

  6. She sounds a bit like Compo from Last Of The Summer Wine.