"Every time I walk out the door of a Waffle House it takes a second to remember where I am."
"I know what you mean, all of them are exactly the same layout."
"It seems like it is more than that lately. Like between the two vestibule doors, the universe rearrange to make sure I get out to the right parking lot. Sometimes I even feel like things are still shifting into place when I get out to the sidewalk."
"You're just being weird."
"Probably. Probably just me getting older and more senile too..." I trailed off to let the moment pass and get on with the day.
But the thought really hadn't passed. The thought seemed to catch on something just on the corner of my perception and fester and nag and bore down into my subconscious. As if the company had found out a way to fill the need for more restaurants without having the expense of building so many. Maybe a Waffle House in someplace like Arizona might not need to worry about a need for so many, but here in the South the need is massive. It seems to be an unspoken requirement that every city block have two churches and a Waffle House. It is a lot to keep up with, and I wondered if there was anything to it.
Be careful what you think about, you never know who's watching.
A few Saturdays passed after the conversation about different planes of existence all focused on different Waffle House locations. I had been obsessed about the question for many days, but the intensity had begun to wear off. I had asked several people about it, and most just thought I was being goofy and just let the question die a natural apathetic death. So, I had stopped talking about it, but I hadn't stopped thinking about it. Because of this, I had to try it out again. Test some theories.
For example, did they shift only when you didn't pay attention? Was it possible to see them shift from the inside? Were the employees in on it? Was I, in fact, just being crazy and needed to let the whole thing drop? In pursuit of the truth I did the only logical thing and went to the nearest Waffle House. Taking extra care to notice every detail, I walked in, found an open booth, and ordered my favorite menu items: cheesy eggs, bacon, hasbrowns (smothered, covered, diced, and peppered), raisin toast with apple butter, and a pecan waffle. An impressive feast meant to allow for a long. leisurely, and hopefully revealing breakfast.
All the delicious components arrived as ordered and without incident. I began to arrange my meal and set things in order. Add the Tabasco to the eggs. Spread the apple butter on the raisin toast. Ask for an extra apple butter. Mix up the hashbrowns and butter and syrup on the waffle. Consumed by my typical preparations, I failed to notice the several individuals that began to arrive in the diner that morning. When I looked up I was surprised to see a wider variety of patrons than was usual for the small Southern town I thought I was currently sitting in.
The new arrivals all looked human and normal enough, but not normal for this town. Some seemed normal for the New England area. Others normal for the Midwest or Southern California. Some seemed normal for other countries. The problem was, the more I looked I began to see that some of the patrons seemed to fade in and out. Like they were superimposed on someone else in the exact same spot but in a different town. Then it began to change more.
The next thing I noticed is that the human patrons were now superimposed with decidedly non-human patrons, that somehow still seemed to essentially look like the same patrons, but with oddly colored skin or extra limbs or eyeballs or heads compared to what would be expected form human restaurant goers.
I shook my head and checked my eyes and the entire picture reordered into the original scene from before I started my food prep process. I must have had a stunned look on my face because as the waitress passed by she stopped and paused and examined me with a thoughtful eye.
"You saw something, didn't you?"
"I...I don't know. Maybe? It seemed almost like . . . like . . . well, like something."
"Like layers sort of slipping out of focus?
"Exactly! How'd you know?"
"See it happen now and then myself. Like other folks come in who aren't quite right for here. Thought it was travelers or hippies or Deadheads, but then they don't stick in place for long and in one blink it all changes."
"Yes, exactly! That's what it seemed like, only it got even weirder the longer I looked."
"Oh, you mean the purple and green and blue folks with extra arms and stuff?"
"Yeah, like that."
"Yep, they are pretty kooky, but they never stick around, and all the weird extra people don't get me any extra tips, you know? So I mostly just wait for it to pass and get on with my day."
"Thanks for letting me know I'm not crazy!"
"No worries, hun. Need some more apple butter or anything?"
"Naw, I'm good. Thanks."
"By the way, not everyone sees it. Just saying. Don't know what it means, but I can tell who notices and who doesn't. Thought you might like to know. Seem like the type who cares."
"Sure am. Thanks for that. Really, thank you."
As she walked off all I could do was distractedly pick my way through the rest of the meal in stunned awareness of a whole new reality, all fully observed from the corner booth of the local Waffle House. I wasn't sure what it could mean or what to do with the knowledge, but I felt like I should tell somebody or share it with somebody or something. I finished my meal, paid my bill and left a generous tip before heading to the vestibule on the way to my car.
It is interesting all that can happen from one door to the next only a mere five or so feet apart. The first door closed behind me, and as I began to open the second door, everything shifted and I found myself in the wrong place. A different place. Not the parking lot in the South, but a parking lot in what seemed like nowhere. Some place that was no place. A void of sorts. But not devoid of life. As I got my bearings I could see a Waffle House behind me, warm and inviting, and ahead of me a single individual. They seemed kind and as if they were expecting me. Despite the familiarity of the Waffle House behind me that singled the safety of familiarity, I somehow knew I needed to talk to the person in front of me. It seemed vital.
"Hey, do you know where we are? How I got here?"
"Yes, of course, I should think so. After all, I made it so you came here."
"Where is here?"
"Really not much of anywhere. Just a place between. But it is also a very important place, at least for me."
"Why? What's so important about here?"
"Well, you see, this is where all the sorting happens. This is where we make sure that everyone gets from their booth to their car in the correct place each and every time, no matter which Waffle House on which plane of existence they happen to be on or in. Normally this happens without anyone noticing, but there are special people, people like you, who notice. We feel it is best to address each of you as soon as possible in order to keep things running smoothly for everyone else."
"It doesn't seem like a threat from how you are talking, but it comes of as a possible threat in context. Should I be concerned? Would you tell even tell me if I had a reason to?"
"No concern, just like to be upfront and honest with anyone that notices. It is a special quality that we would rather foster than fight against. Anyone who notices is special to us. It is the ones who notice that help make ti so Waffle House can do what it does."
"And what exactly is that?"
"Well, like you have tried to say to others, there are probably a finite number of Waffle House buildings. That theory is more true than you know. There are actually ten total restaurants, but each exists on an infinite number of parallel planes of existence. We could probably do it with one, but we found that ten is enough that we can orient for each direction on the compass and the half steps in between so that we don't make folks too dizzy when they step through the portal in the vestibule. The restaurant you were in was one of the odd ones that is between the ten set directions. It happens in places without straight roads. Still most don't notice, but some do. It is harder to keep the few that are off the mark aligned properly. Probably should fix that, but the little quirks in life are what make life fun!"
"I see, so what do you want from me?"
"Well, this is sort of a job offer really. We need folks who can see when things are off and then correct them. Right now you have the first part naturally, always a preferred starting point, and we can train you to do the rest."
"Hmmm, interesting. So, would I be able to jump between different spots and planes and all that?"
"Of course!"
"You have medical, retirement, and paid vacation?"
"Yes, yes, all of that, and a company supplied home and vehicles, though really once you learn the trick, you probably won't much care for driving anymore. So time consuming!"
"So my family can come too?"
"Definitely!"
"Sounds great! I'm in!"
"That's how it all started. Honestly I shouldn't be telling you, but seeing as you noticed and it's a slow morning, I think you'll be cool. Am I right? You cool?"
"So cool, bro, so cool!"
"Good, glad to hear it. Hope you enjoy the rest of your meal. And watch the walkway outside when you leave. It can get kind of weird outside there."
"I know what you mean, all of them are exactly the same layout."
"It seems like it is more than that lately. Like between the two vestibule doors, the universe rearrange to make sure I get out to the right parking lot. Sometimes I even feel like things are still shifting into place when I get out to the sidewalk."
"You're just being weird."
"Probably. Probably just me getting older and more senile too..." I trailed off to let the moment pass and get on with the day.
But the thought really hadn't passed. The thought seemed to catch on something just on the corner of my perception and fester and nag and bore down into my subconscious. As if the company had found out a way to fill the need for more restaurants without having the expense of building so many. Maybe a Waffle House in someplace like Arizona might not need to worry about a need for so many, but here in the South the need is massive. It seems to be an unspoken requirement that every city block have two churches and a Waffle House. It is a lot to keep up with, and I wondered if there was anything to it.
Be careful what you think about, you never know who's watching.
A few Saturdays passed after the conversation about different planes of existence all focused on different Waffle House locations. I had been obsessed about the question for many days, but the intensity had begun to wear off. I had asked several people about it, and most just thought I was being goofy and just let the question die a natural apathetic death. So, I had stopped talking about it, but I hadn't stopped thinking about it. Because of this, I had to try it out again. Test some theories.
For example, did they shift only when you didn't pay attention? Was it possible to see them shift from the inside? Were the employees in on it? Was I, in fact, just being crazy and needed to let the whole thing drop? In pursuit of the truth I did the only logical thing and went to the nearest Waffle House. Taking extra care to notice every detail, I walked in, found an open booth, and ordered my favorite menu items: cheesy eggs, bacon, hasbrowns (smothered, covered, diced, and peppered), raisin toast with apple butter, and a pecan waffle. An impressive feast meant to allow for a long. leisurely, and hopefully revealing breakfast.
All the delicious components arrived as ordered and without incident. I began to arrange my meal and set things in order. Add the Tabasco to the eggs. Spread the apple butter on the raisin toast. Ask for an extra apple butter. Mix up the hashbrowns and butter and syrup on the waffle. Consumed by my typical preparations, I failed to notice the several individuals that began to arrive in the diner that morning. When I looked up I was surprised to see a wider variety of patrons than was usual for the small Southern town I thought I was currently sitting in.
The new arrivals all looked human and normal enough, but not normal for this town. Some seemed normal for the New England area. Others normal for the Midwest or Southern California. Some seemed normal for other countries. The problem was, the more I looked I began to see that some of the patrons seemed to fade in and out. Like they were superimposed on someone else in the exact same spot but in a different town. Then it began to change more.
The next thing I noticed is that the human patrons were now superimposed with decidedly non-human patrons, that somehow still seemed to essentially look like the same patrons, but with oddly colored skin or extra limbs or eyeballs or heads compared to what would be expected form human restaurant goers.
I shook my head and checked my eyes and the entire picture reordered into the original scene from before I started my food prep process. I must have had a stunned look on my face because as the waitress passed by she stopped and paused and examined me with a thoughtful eye.
"You saw something, didn't you?"
"I...I don't know. Maybe? It seemed almost like . . . like . . . well, like something."
"Like layers sort of slipping out of focus?
"Exactly! How'd you know?"
"See it happen now and then myself. Like other folks come in who aren't quite right for here. Thought it was travelers or hippies or Deadheads, but then they don't stick in place for long and in one blink it all changes."
"Yes, exactly! That's what it seemed like, only it got even weirder the longer I looked."
"Oh, you mean the purple and green and blue folks with extra arms and stuff?"
"Yeah, like that."
"Yep, they are pretty kooky, but they never stick around, and all the weird extra people don't get me any extra tips, you know? So I mostly just wait for it to pass and get on with my day."
"Thanks for letting me know I'm not crazy!"
"No worries, hun. Need some more apple butter or anything?"
"Naw, I'm good. Thanks."
"By the way, not everyone sees it. Just saying. Don't know what it means, but I can tell who notices and who doesn't. Thought you might like to know. Seem like the type who cares."
"Sure am. Thanks for that. Really, thank you."
As she walked off all I could do was distractedly pick my way through the rest of the meal in stunned awareness of a whole new reality, all fully observed from the corner booth of the local Waffle House. I wasn't sure what it could mean or what to do with the knowledge, but I felt like I should tell somebody or share it with somebody or something. I finished my meal, paid my bill and left a generous tip before heading to the vestibule on the way to my car.
It is interesting all that can happen from one door to the next only a mere five or so feet apart. The first door closed behind me, and as I began to open the second door, everything shifted and I found myself in the wrong place. A different place. Not the parking lot in the South, but a parking lot in what seemed like nowhere. Some place that was no place. A void of sorts. But not devoid of life. As I got my bearings I could see a Waffle House behind me, warm and inviting, and ahead of me a single individual. They seemed kind and as if they were expecting me. Despite the familiarity of the Waffle House behind me that singled the safety of familiarity, I somehow knew I needed to talk to the person in front of me. It seemed vital.
"Hey, do you know where we are? How I got here?"
"Yes, of course, I should think so. After all, I made it so you came here."
"Where is here?"
"Really not much of anywhere. Just a place between. But it is also a very important place, at least for me."
"Why? What's so important about here?"
"Well, you see, this is where all the sorting happens. This is where we make sure that everyone gets from their booth to their car in the correct place each and every time, no matter which Waffle House on which plane of existence they happen to be on or in. Normally this happens without anyone noticing, but there are special people, people like you, who notice. We feel it is best to address each of you as soon as possible in order to keep things running smoothly for everyone else."
"It doesn't seem like a threat from how you are talking, but it comes of as a possible threat in context. Should I be concerned? Would you tell even tell me if I had a reason to?"
"No concern, just like to be upfront and honest with anyone that notices. It is a special quality that we would rather foster than fight against. Anyone who notices is special to us. It is the ones who notice that help make ti so Waffle House can do what it does."
"And what exactly is that?"
"Well, like you have tried to say to others, there are probably a finite number of Waffle House buildings. That theory is more true than you know. There are actually ten total restaurants, but each exists on an infinite number of parallel planes of existence. We could probably do it with one, but we found that ten is enough that we can orient for each direction on the compass and the half steps in between so that we don't make folks too dizzy when they step through the portal in the vestibule. The restaurant you were in was one of the odd ones that is between the ten set directions. It happens in places without straight roads. Still most don't notice, but some do. It is harder to keep the few that are off the mark aligned properly. Probably should fix that, but the little quirks in life are what make life fun!"
"I see, so what do you want from me?"
"Well, this is sort of a job offer really. We need folks who can see when things are off and then correct them. Right now you have the first part naturally, always a preferred starting point, and we can train you to do the rest."
"Hmmm, interesting. So, would I be able to jump between different spots and planes and all that?"
"Of course!"
"You have medical, retirement, and paid vacation?"
"Yes, yes, all of that, and a company supplied home and vehicles, though really once you learn the trick, you probably won't much care for driving anymore. So time consuming!"
"So my family can come too?"
"Definitely!"
"Sounds great! I'm in!"
"That's how it all started. Honestly I shouldn't be telling you, but seeing as you noticed and it's a slow morning, I think you'll be cool. Am I right? You cool?"
"So cool, bro, so cool!"
"Good, glad to hear it. Hope you enjoy the rest of your meal. And watch the walkway outside when you leave. It can get kind of weird outside there."
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