Highly suggestible that you read Ode to IHOP first. So naturally I ensure this one is first on the page lol. Intentionally bad prose, not even written in a true ode style or with any real rhyming scheme, and I don't care.
Sometimes ya gotta write some bad shit about sub-par quality restaurants, I reckon.
Oh, Denny's.
Oh, Denny's.
Ohhhhhhhhh, Denny's.
At one a.m., you're the warrior, standing guard against the onslaught of our enemies. The lone soldier on a pale horse, battling against the invading horde of boredom and hunger.
At two a.m., you're the king, dictating to the people what is good and what law is. You lay down the rules with endless pancakes and endless coffee of questionable taste, and betimes the odd delightful specialty plate.
At three a.m., you're a God. My friends and I gather at your temples and give charity, preaching your cause even as we devour you. Your biscuits and gravy are fucking awesome, and those pancakes....the bounty of your pancakes and ever-flowing coffee never cease.
Lord of the night and savior of the day - when waiting for a bus, you're the best thing in the world. Coffee and pancakes, a book in hand, the morning beautiful and the people interesting.
Yearly you open your doors and give back to those who have given you so much - a free meal to all who wish it. Your charity is as great as your syrup is good, your eggs and hashbrowns perfect, your bacon crisp.
Oh, Denny's.
Oh, Denny's.
May you never fall!
Monday, April 2, 2012
Ode to my local IHOP (that closed down)
Y'know, sometimes I intentionally write bad prose on purpose. Hell these aren't even structured properly for an Ode, but meh - whatever. I like 'em, think they're funny, and worthy enough to be shared.
I might be wrong, but I think I'm right on this 'un. Lemme know what ya think, as always, at the usual spots.
Once, I couldn't walk. Once, I was immobilized.
Once, my soul was in constant pain and broken to bits, my pride gone.
But you.
YOU!
During the time of intense pain, through the humiliation of physical training, you were there for me.
With peppery breakfast sausages and a new delectable plate each month, with your delicious coffee (oh god, how I remember you so well!) and your excellent service.
We would sit there for hours afterward, drinking coffee and happily digesting, playing cards and enjoying the view from the tables we chose, the outside a wonderful thing.
We would bring our friends and make a happy ruckus, buying plate after plate of tasty goodies.
I and my darling would talk of you to others, and tell random strangers on the street of your fields of splendor, your palate-pleasing taste sensations.
Oh god, it's because of you I can't have syrup unless it's hot.
Oh god, it's because of you I put syrup and honey in my coffee.
But you.
YOU!
You had to leave us, didn't you? You had to shut down.
Is it the economy? Was it corruption? Could it have been an act of God?
It doesn't matter. You were there for me during a time when I needed you.
You were perfect, you were necessary, you healed me.
You delighted us, you delighted me.
And sometimes, that's enough. You had a good run, and I will always remember you with kindness.
With fondness.
Even as my darling has left me, even as my body regrows in strength and pride, even as I glue back the pieces of my soul I will always have a special place for you in my heart.
Where your breakfast sausages will always sizzle with peppery goodness, your bacon with a clean and delectable taste, and your hot syrup always perfectly poured over some new creation.
Perfection forever.
For the record, hot syrup really did blow my fucking mind. I haven't been to either Denny's or an IHOP restaurant since...god, last year. Nine or ten months ago, methinks. Suffice it to say I order it that way no matter where I go, and the IHOP I'm speakin' of closed down nigh on a year and a half ago. Sigh. The memories. The hot syrup.
I might be wrong, but I think I'm right on this 'un. Lemme know what ya think, as always, at the usual spots.
Once, I couldn't walk. Once, I was immobilized.
Once, my soul was in constant pain and broken to bits, my pride gone.
But you.
YOU!
During the time of intense pain, through the humiliation of physical training, you were there for me.
With peppery breakfast sausages and a new delectable plate each month, with your delicious coffee (oh god, how I remember you so well!) and your excellent service.
We would sit there for hours afterward, drinking coffee and happily digesting, playing cards and enjoying the view from the tables we chose, the outside a wonderful thing.
We would bring our friends and make a happy ruckus, buying plate after plate of tasty goodies.
I and my darling would talk of you to others, and tell random strangers on the street of your fields of splendor, your palate-pleasing taste sensations.
Oh god, it's because of you I can't have syrup unless it's hot.
Oh god, it's because of you I put syrup and honey in my coffee.
But you.
YOU!
You had to leave us, didn't you? You had to shut down.
Is it the economy? Was it corruption? Could it have been an act of God?
It doesn't matter. You were there for me during a time when I needed you.
You were perfect, you were necessary, you healed me.
You delighted us, you delighted me.
And sometimes, that's enough. You had a good run, and I will always remember you with kindness.
With fondness.
Even as my darling has left me, even as my body regrows in strength and pride, even as I glue back the pieces of my soul I will always have a special place for you in my heart.
Where your breakfast sausages will always sizzle with peppery goodness, your bacon with a clean and delectable taste, and your hot syrup always perfectly poured over some new creation.
Perfection forever.
For the record, hot syrup really did blow my fucking mind. I haven't been to either Denny's or an IHOP restaurant since...god, last year. Nine or ten months ago, methinks. Suffice it to say I order it that way no matter where I go, and the IHOP I'm speakin' of closed down nigh on a year and a half ago. Sigh. The memories. The hot syrup.
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