WAFFLE HOUSE
Today I was up early to get to the auto shop in Walnut, five miles away, to get my Kia inspected. The inspection was over before I could sit down at a table and start drinking my coffee which I had brought with me to while away the time. No inspection at all, or at most a passing glance, and a minute or two to fill out the official check list. That suited me fine. My last inspection in Swannanoa was too thorough and forced me to buy new tires for $500 although the old ones had a good deal of tread left.
This accomplishment cheered me up so much that I decided to go out for breakfast. What I wanted was a traditional breakfast of two eggs over easy, hash browns and toast with black coffee. I drove to Weaverville and that is just what I got at Waffle House, the first breakfast place I saw.
I got more than two eggs over easy, hashbrowns smothered and covered, I got traditional America in baseball caps. Every table and almost every counter seat was taken. Conversation filled the room along with the shouts of the servers and cooks as they called orders out to each other.
The other place I could have had breakfast in Weaverville was Well Bread Bakery on Main Street. If I had gone there I would have gotten a delicious sweet roll of some sort with a fruit cup and an espresso. The conversation would have been muted and no one would be wearing a baseball cap and the price would have been higher.
I’ve got nothing against the Well Bread Bakery or the price, but what I wanted this time was a traditional American breakfast among ordinary down home folks.
BILLYBABA’S WANDERING 