Of Waffle House and Porn

While the drive from Duncan to Shreveport was mostly eventless, there were two happenings of note.
We ran into the first Waffle House of our trip outside of Dallas.
You know what they say, “You’re not in God’s country until you see the big yellow Waffle House sign.”
OK, nobody in the world has ever said that, but Waffle House is amazing. Despite fulfilling every stereotype you’ve ever had about the South and/or diners, it’s a Southern mainstay, cheap, and guess what’s really good there?
I screamed “Waffle House” as soon as I saw the yellow sign appear on the side of the road, which my parents didn’t understand at all (until we ate at one in Baton Rouge the next day and they actually liked it).
The other big thing that happened was the frequency of neon-signed adult stores and arcades that sit at just about every exit.
Seriously, I’ve started calling them Texas Wal-Marts.
There’s no legal prostitution in Texas, but you can sure as hell buy a novelty dildo every time you stop for gas.


Type rest of the post here