This past Sunday my wife and I went to the local Waffle House to dine out . . . in so far as feasting on greasy hashbrowns and gristle can be construed as dining out. Waffle House is a diner of the greasy spoon variety. Though it's a national chain each establishment attracts a local element of color particular to that vicinity.
Sitting at the counter was a gentleman who had four prescription pill bottles lined up next to his plate. Four! Why anyone would proudly display his drugs of choice for fellow restaurant goers to see is beyond me. Even more baffling is the fact that someone who feels he needs multiple medicines to keep him alive would even set foot in a Waffle House, much less eat the food. I made a brief attempt to look over and inconspicuously read one of the labels but it was to no avail. The print was too small. I did recognize one of the caution stickers on the side. It said TAKE WITH FOOD.
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