IHOP at midnight is a wondrous place.
If not for the windows you'd never know that darkness enveloped the lively, cheery eatery. Families, some eight to nine faces chatting 'round the table, little children up way past bedtime, sleepy eyes subdued but fighting to stay awake, herds of hormonal, laughing teenagers, talking loudly and ordering pancakes, the frumpy old man, scruffy and single, sitting alone sipping hot coffee, glad to be out and around people though he's spoken to no one all day, college kids singing, sobering up after a night out on the town, lovers just enjoying being lovers, kind-hearted waitresses who call us all "honey", faces weathered with lines telling tales of tears and triumphs, and me. JT crooning "You're Smiling Face" accompanied by the constant clatter of dishes, the scent of sweet, sticky artificial maple syrup, and a yellow light basking all in a warm, golden glow of comfort.
It's a delicious slice of real, down-to-earth living at its finest.
No comments:
Post a Comment