Sarah and I took a road trip to Florida with our dad over Christmas a few years ago. We went to Zephyrhills and stayed in a 55+ community with our aunt and uncle.
Most of the drive there was uneventful, save a late night waffle stop in South Carolina. It was about 2am, but when you've got a hankering for waffles, nothing else will satisfy. I went into the store first, while Sarah was just waking up in the car, and dad was having a cee-gar.
There were two dudes working that shift, a cook and the server, and it really brightened up their night when I walked in. When I came out of the restroom, I found a tired Sarah trying to explain that it wasn't deja vu, we were sisters. They couldn't believe their luck. I remember trying to see where my dad was, hoping he'd come in and grunt at them as he was apt to do, but he was just smoking away, amused at the show unfolding through the window.
These guys were the most stereotypical southern diner hicks that could have been designed. From their lanky stature, wanting oral hygiene, and greasy aprons to their thick twang. They were very interested in that we were from Canada. In fact, their "boss man" went to Mont-Re-All once. The cook told us that one day he'd like to take a train to Mont-Re-All...is that where we lived?
Well. That cunning line was too smooth for the server to handle. His angry retort was pointing out that the cook was too old for us: "Wud are you, a ped-o-phile!?" The obvious response followed: "Sheit...ped-o-phile? I can't even SPELL ped-o-file!". That's when things got exciting...and the Shud Up Fight was born:
Shud up! No you shud up! No YOU shud up! Shud up you ped-o-phile! I ain't no ped-o-phile!
That's either when my dad's cigar was finished or simply when he saw fit to end the show. Either way, he walked in and announced he needed some waffles. They ceased and desist their shud up fight and made us some mighty satisfying waffles.
We honour those fine gentlemen and their gift of tasty waffles each and every time Sarah and I have a Shud Up Fight.
Most of the drive there was uneventful, save a late night waffle stop in South Carolina. It was about 2am, but when you've got a hankering for waffles, nothing else will satisfy. I went into the store first, while Sarah was just waking up in the car, and dad was having a cee-gar.
There were two dudes working that shift, a cook and the server, and it really brightened up their night when I walked in. When I came out of the restroom, I found a tired Sarah trying to explain that it wasn't deja vu, we were sisters. They couldn't believe their luck. I remember trying to see where my dad was, hoping he'd come in and grunt at them as he was apt to do, but he was just smoking away, amused at the show unfolding through the window.
These guys were the most stereotypical southern diner hicks that could have been designed. From their lanky stature, wanting oral hygiene, and greasy aprons to their thick twang. They were very interested in that we were from Canada. In fact, their "boss man" went to Mont-Re-All once. The cook told us that one day he'd like to take a train to Mont-Re-All...is that where we lived?
Well. That cunning line was too smooth for the server to handle. His angry retort was pointing out that the cook was too old for us: "Wud are you, a ped-o-phile!?" The obvious response followed: "Sheit...ped-o-phile? I can't even SPELL ped-o-file!". That's when things got exciting...and the Shud Up Fight was born:
Shud up! No you shud up! No YOU shud up! Shud up you ped-o-phile! I ain't no ped-o-phile!
That's either when my dad's cigar was finished or simply when he saw fit to end the show. Either way, he walked in and announced he needed some waffles. They ceased and desist their shud up fight and made us some mighty satisfying waffles.
We honour those fine gentlemen and their gift of tasty waffles each and every time Sarah and I have a Shud Up Fight.
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