I woke up this morning with three thoughts on my mind. The first being that the song in my head, Rosanne Cash's Seven Year Ache, may be one of the greatest songs ever written. Second, I decided Jane needed a lot of exercise today since I'll be working late tonight and will have to leave her alone for a while. Third, I needed to eat breakfast since, probably for the first time ever, I forgot to eat supper last night.
After downloading Seven Year Ache and taking Jane for a walk I got in my car with several options to choose from. I've recently become a regular at both Cafe Cappucino and Panera, so I decided to shake things up a bit. Planning to end up at Common Grounds to use their WiFi, I decided to head toward campus and try Denny's, which is just next door. But during the entire drive down 18th I kept telling myself that I really didn't want Denny's, that I should really eat local. As I approached the interstate I realized Taco Arandas was open and that they served breakfast, so I pulled into their parking lot. But something happened. I felt the spirit was leading me in a different, more fulfilling, direction. "Where are you leading me?" I inquired of the spirit. Then all of a sudden it was as if the car began to steer itself back across 18th toward 19th to THE Waco restaurant, George's bar and Grill. As the spirit drove I thought "Of course, Singleton (one whom the staff of George's knows very well) told me they served breakfast."
Now I'll be honest, I rarely eat at George's because I hate to wait. I'm the guy who chooses where I'm getting my haircut based on who has the shortest line. But I've never had a bad experience there, and today's breakfast was no exception.
I brought no reading material and the television playing classic movies wasn't loud enough for me to hear, so I just sat down and waited for my Southwest Burrito with nothing but my Dr. Pepper and thoughts, one of which was how cool it would be to come to George's one day for breakfast with a group of friends and have a Big O, George's famous large round glass of your favorite brew. To borrow a phrase from Carney, that would definitely be rugged.
No joke, as I was entertaining that thought my attention was drawn to a table of old men across the room, one of them telling the group, "Well, I don't know about y'all, but I'm going to have a'nuther." Next to each plate of bacon, eggs, and biscuits and gravy was a Big O Margarita, of varying degrees of emptiness!
Part of my funk recently has been my inability to find things to write about, so I'm going to try to start letting you in on stories that give reasons why I love living in Waco. So here it is...
Reason #1 Waco Kicks Ass: No one will look down on you if you have a Big O for breakfast at George's, but they may look down on you if you don't have a second.
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