Waffle House index

[whiteworks]

The Waffle House Index is a metric named after the ubiquitous Southern US restaurant chain Waffle Houseknown for its 24-hour, 365-day service. Since this restaurant always remains open, it has given rise to an informal but useful metric to determine the severity of a storm and the likely scale of assistance required for disaster recovery

Waffle House Index - Wikipedia

en.m.wikipedia.org

 

[napanutt]

Was just seeing this on the weather channel. Looks like at least 10 within 20 miles or so of Tampa Bay are closing because of Milton.

Edit:
Looks like more than 10.

 

[sprintcvx]

https://twitter.com/i/web/status/1843770297901822111

 

[DarkHorseRacing]

Never been to a Waffle House. Closest I’ve been to one was either Fayetteville or Bentonville Arkansas. I saw one, realized I should go once and then forgot about it.

I was equating it to a southern IHOP or Denny’s but never found out.

 

[76 Hondo]

Every time at my Daughter's in Georgia made fun of the Afull House she made my SiL take for breakfast, eh!

 

[mash on it]

There's one off Bell and I17, on Phoenix, east of the fwy.
Scattered smothered and covered.

Dan'l

 

[Melloyellovector]

Cheese steak melt and hash browns-all the way.

 

[mjc]

There's one off Bell and I17, on Phoenix, east of the fwy.
Scattered smothered and covered.

Dan'l

Scattered smothered covered and diced .

 

[Dog]

What made Awful house famous is they used to have "all you can eat". Late night after the bar it was pretty awesome. It was like $8 or something.

(I like their food most of the time)

 

[SLT Kota]

You haven't lived until you have been to a waffle house after the midnight.

If mine ever boards up for a storm I am running, I trust them more than the weather man.

 

[Crazyhippy]

Hillbilly hibachi!

 

[Smupser]

I was equating it to a southern IHOP or Denny’s but never found out.

IHOP and Denny‘s aren’t even in the same ballpark, league or sport

All star special for me all day everyday

 

[Smupser]

A buddy of mine and I flew to Phoenix one time and I told him that they had a couple waffle houses out there and I wanted to go since he had never been. from the time we walked in the door to the time we walked out was probably 15 minutes or less. We sat down and we’re looking at the menu and the guy behind the grill was literally watching us to hear what we told the waitress we wanted and within, two seconds of hearing it our food was already cooking

walking out my buddy tells me, “I could eat here everyday“

 

[whiteworks]

If you have some time to kill feel freee to dive down the social media rabbit hole using the search term “Waffle House fights”. AMAZING

 

[bagged97taco]

Years ago a few friends and I left the bar and headed to Waffle House to sober up. We get there, sit down and the cook is screaming at the poor waitress. Huge scene. Waitress is crying, cook walks out leaving her and another girl alone. Our waitress apologizes and says they have no cook now and we will have to leave. My drunk buddy asks if we could make our own food. Sure as shit we go around and make our own food. What a night. Our food sucked compared to what we should have had. But the story will be told forever. She didnt charge us but we tipped her well.

 

[SeanRitchie]

My Waffle House story.

A few years ago during a PRI show in Indy, our flights home on Sunday night were cancelled. We got accommodation tickets from the airline and stayed the night in a hotel near the airport that I am positive had been used for murders and other nefarious activities on a regular basis.

There was a Waffle House across the street.

After staying up until midnight polishing off whatever cheap case of beer we grabbed from the liquor store next to the hotel, carefully guarded by the cashier protected by thick Plexiglas, we decided it a good idea to head to the Waffle House for breakfast before our 5am shuttle to the airport.

At 4:00 am, we rousted ourselves out of the stained, smelly mattresses after sleeping in our hoodies and jeans to protect ourselves from whatever god awful pathogens were likely on the sheets/comforters, and began the 15ºF walk across the street to the Waffle House.

Between the hotel and Waffle House was a gas station, with a stray medium sized pitbull digging through the garbage cans for whatever it could find to sustain itself. Of course it saw us as we entered the light of the station cover, and started to trot in our direction until we figured it was best to start making ourselves as much of a threat to it's well being as possible. Dog got the hint, trotted off in the other direction, but only to turn back and follow us about 100' behind, so we continued our journey to the much anticipated breakfast at the Waffle House. At 4 AM on a Monday morning.

Alas, the yellow glow of the Waffle House bathed us in its warm light as we approached. Upon entering the brightly lit establishment, and shaking off the cold, we had a chance to verify our surroundings. All 6 booths and 8 breakfast bar stools had been caution taped off to prevent any in house dining. Every single table and eating area was still covered with leftover food and litter from previous clientele. The cook and cashier had already engaged in some sort of argument prior to our arrival, creating a moderately tense atmosphere as we scanned the menu board to sort out what we were going to order.

We figured out our order, politely asked the moderately overweight, 30 something year old caucasian lady cashier if we could place said orders for food, to which we were greeted with: "Yeah, what the f**k do you want?". We assumed this was standard operating procedure in the cashiers employment manual.

We placed our order and patiently remained standing, waiting for our food in the small area between the caution taped, food and litter covered booths and order counter. While waiting, we begin to hear the well known low thud of booming sub woofers getting closer and closer. I'll give you one guess as to what kind of car pulled into the parking lot...Yes, it was a Dodge Challenger on 22" rims.

And wouldn't you know it, 5 young African American gentlemen egress the vehicle and head in to place their order at the Waffle House. I can attest that these 5 young gentlemen were not on their way to an early morning shift at the local factory, but indeed closing out their Sunday night/Monday morning after visiting some of the finer gentlemen's club establishments near the airport, and were well inebriated.

They enter the Waffle House, take a look at the two 35 year old white guys waiting for their food, a slight look of unease and discomfort on their faces (talking about myself and coworker buddy), then proceed to tear down the caution tape closing off the dining area and take their seats at a booth, not caring about the food and little clutter all over the table.

One of the gentlemen then yells to the cashier: "Hey fatty, get your fat ass over here and get us some food!"

To which the cashier politely says back: "Just a minute boys, I'll be right there." It was at this moment that my coworker and I had realized our mistake in the proper method to request service.

After another 5 minutes waiting for our order, our comfort level was not in fact getting any better, but rather declining as the 5 young gentlemen tell stories of their experiences of the night. It became clear that we were in arguably not a good neighborhood.

Our order was called, we grabbed the heavy, grease saturated bag of what some people call food and quickly egressed the establishment to return to our hotel across the street.

Our new dog friend had waited for us outside while we were inside the warm indoors of the Waffle House, and was certainly a bit curious about the bag of food we were carrying with us. We picked up our pace to a little more than a jog, but not quite a full stride run back to the hotel a few hundred yards away, dog in tow. Gracious to say, we made it back without any incident.

Food review: It was worth a try, but not something that I crave to return for. Except if after I find myself enjoying a late Sunday evening/early Monday morning visiting some of the finer gentlemen's club establishments near the airport. Then it will probably hit the spot.

I spent way too much time writing that. I need to get to work.

 

[DarkHorseRacing]

My Waffle House story.

A few years ago during a PRI show in Indy, our flights home on Sunday night were cancelled. We got accommodation tickets from the airline and stayed the night in a hotel near the airport that I am positive had been used for murders and other nefarious activities on a regular basis.

There was a Waffle House across the street.

After staying up until midnight polishing off whatever cheap case of beer we grabbed from the liquor store next to the hotel, carefully guarded by the cashier protected by thick Plexiglas, we decided it a good idea to head to the Waffle House for breakfast before our 5am shuttle to the airport.

At 4:00 am, we rousted ourselves out of the stained, smelly mattresses after sleeping in our hoodies and jeans to protect ourselves from whatever god awful pathogens were likely on the sheets/comforters, and began the 15ºF walk across the street to the Waffle House.

Between the hotel and Waffle House was a gas station, with a stray medium sized pitbull digging through the garbage cans for whatever it could find to sustain itself. Of course it saw us as we entered the light of the station cover, and started to trot in our direction until we figured it was best to start making ourselves as much of a threat to it's well being as possible. Dog got the hint, trotted off in the other direction, but only to turn back and follow us about 100' behind, so we continued our journey to the much anticipated breakfast at the Waffle House. At 4 AM on a Monday morning.

Alas, the yellow glow of the Waffle House bathed us in its warm light as we approached. Upon entering the brightly lit establishment, and shaking off the cold, we had a chance to verify our surroundings. All 6 booths and 8 breakfast bar stools had been caution taped off to prevent any in house dining. Every single table and eating area was still covered with leftover food and litter from previous clientele. The cook and cashier had already engaged in some sort of argument prior to our arrival, creating a moderately tense atmosphere as we scanned the menu board to sort out what we were going to order.

We figured out our order, politely asked the moderately overweight, 30 something year old caucasian lady cashier if we could place said orders for food, to which we were greeted with: "Yeah, what the f**k do you want?". We assumed this was standard operating procedure in the cashiers employment manual.

We placed our order and patiently remained standing, waiting for our food in the small area between the caution taped, food and litter covered booths and order counter. While waiting, we begin to hear the well known low thud of booming sub woofers getting closer and closer. I'll give you one guess as to what kind of car pulled into the parking lot...Yes, it was a Dodge Challenger on 22" rims.

And wouldn't you know it, 5 young African American gentlemen egress the vehicle and head in to place their order at the Waffle House. I can attest that these 5 young gentlemen were not on their way to an early morning shift at the local factory, but indeed closing out their Sunday night/Monday morning after visiting some of the finer gentlemen's club establishments near the airport, and were well inebriated.

They enter the Waffle House, take a look at the two 35 year old white guys waiting for their food, a slight look of unease and discomfort on their faces (talking about myself and coworker buddy), then proceed to tear down the caution tape closing off the dining area and take their seats at a booth, not caring about the food and little clutter all over the table.

One of the gentlemen then yells to the cashier: "Hey fatty, get your fat ass over here and get us some food!"

To which the cashier politely says back: "Just a minute boys, I'll be right there." It was at this moment that my coworker and I had realized our mistake in the proper method to request service.

After another 5 minutes waiting for our order, our comfort level was not in fact getting any better, but rather declining as the 5 young gentlemen tell stories of their experiences of the night. It became clear that we were in arguably not a good neighborhood.

Our order was called, we grabbed the heavy, grease saturated bag of what some people call food and quickly egressed the establishment to return to our hotel across the street.

Our new dog friend had waited for us outside while we were inside the warm indoors of the Waffle House, and was certainly a bit curious about the bag of food we were carrying with us. We picked up our pace to a little more than a jog, but not quite a full stride run back to the hotel a few hundred yards away, dog in tow. Gracious to say, we made it back without any incident.

Food review: It was worth a try, but not something that I crave to return for. Except if after I find myself enjoying a late Sunday evening/early Monday morning visiting some of the finer gentlemen's club establishments near the airport. Then it will probably hit the spot.

I spent way too much time writing that. I need to get to work.

That’s probably why I wasn’t really in that much of a hurry to go there… that and the other comment about searching YouTube for “waffle house fights”. Seems it is an establishment oriented to a certain socio-economic tier of society, one I am not in, will never be in, and will die happy if I never witness it.

 

[whiteworks]

That’s probably why I wasn’t really in that much of a hurry to go there… that and the other comment about searching YouTube for “waffle house fights”. Seems it is an establishment oriented to a certain socio-economic tier of society, one I am not in, will never be in, and will die happy if I never witness it.

Depends what time you go, all the nice white church folk go on Sundays after church, they don’t fight, just clog their artery’s in preparation to meet their lord and savior sooner rather than later.

 

[Dog]

I have been to several different locations after bar closing, at one point probably 3 or 4 times a week. I have never seen a fight. I know they have a reputation but as with everything it can get over blown.
Probably as many fight as a walmart parking lot in an average year. lol

 

[rrrr]

If you have some time to kill feel freee to dive down the social media rabbit hole using the search term “Waffle House fights”. AMAZING

Last time I was in a Waffle House was a few months ago in McKinney around 2 PM. Apparently that's early enough in the day for fat black chicks to drop gloves. They be mad.

 

[Outdrive1]

My Waffle House story.

A few years ago during a PRI show in Indy, our flights home on Sunday night were cancelled. We got accommodation tickets from the airline and stayed the night in a hotel near the airport that I am positive had been used for murders and other nefarious activities on a regular basis.

There was a Waffle House across the street.

After staying up until midnight polishing off whatever cheap case of beer we grabbed from the liquor store next to the hotel, carefully guarded by the cashier protected by thick Plexiglas, we decided it a good idea to head to the Waffle House for breakfast before our 5am shuttle to the airport.

At 4:00 am, we rousted ourselves out of the stained, smelly mattresses after sleeping in our hoodies and jeans to protect ourselves from whatever god awful pathogens were likely on the sheets/comforters, and began the 15ºF walk across the street to the Waffle House.

Between the hotel and Waffle House was a gas station, with a stray medium sized pitbull digging through the garbage cans for whatever it could find to sustain itself. Of course it saw us as we entered the light of the station cover, and started to trot in our direction until we figured it was best to start making ourselves as much of a threat to it's well being as possible. Dog got the hint, trotted off in the other direction, but only to turn back and follow us about 100' behind, so we continued our journey to the much anticipated breakfast at the Waffle House. At 4 AM on a Monday morning.

Alas, the yellow glow of the Waffle House bathed us in its warm light as we approached. Upon entering the brightly lit establishment, and shaking off the cold, we had a chance to verify our surroundings. All 6 booths and 8 breakfast bar stools had been caution taped off to prevent any in house dining. Every single table and eating area was still covered with leftover food and litter from previous clientele. The cook and cashier had already engaged in some sort of argument prior to our arrival, creating a moderately tense atmosphere as we scanned the menu board to sort out what we were going to order.

We figured out our order, politely asked the moderately overweight, 30 something year old caucasian lady cashier if we could place said orders for food, to which we were greeted with: "Yeah, what the f**k do you want?". We assumed this was standard operating procedure in the cashiers employment manual.

We placed our order and patiently remained standing, waiting for our food in the small area between the caution taped, food and litter covered booths and order counter. While waiting, we begin to hear the well known low thud of booming sub woofers getting closer and closer. I'll give you one guess as to what kind of car pulled into the parking lot...Yes, it was a Dodge Challenger on 22" rims.

And wouldn't you know it, 5 young African American gentlemen egress the vehicle and head in to place their order at the Waffle House. I can attest that these 5 young gentlemen were not on their way to an early morning shift at the local factory, but indeed closing out their Sunday night/Monday morning after visiting some of the finer gentlemen's club establishments near the airport, and were well inebriated.

They enter the Waffle House, take a look at the two 35 year old white guys waiting for their food, a slight look of unease and discomfort on their faces (talking about myself and coworker buddy), then proceed to tear down the caution tape closing off the dining area and take their seats at a booth, not caring about the food and little clutter all over the table.

One of the gentlemen then yells to the cashier: "Hey fatty, get your fat ass over here and get us some food!"

To which the cashier politely says back: "Just a minute boys, I'll be right there." It was at this moment that my coworker and I had realized our mistake in the proper method to request service.

After another 5 minutes waiting for our order, our comfort level was not in fact getting any better, but rather declining as the 5 young gentlemen tell stories of their experiences of the night. It became clear that we were in arguably not a good neighborhood.

Our order was called, we grabbed the heavy, grease saturated bag of what some people call food and quickly egressed the establishment to return to our hotel across the street.

Our new dog friend had waited for us outside while we were inside the warm indoors of the Waffle House, and was certainly a bit curious about the bag of food we were carrying with us. We picked up our pace to a little more than a jog, but not quite a full stride run back to the hotel a few hundred yards away, dog in tow. Gracious to say, we made it back without any incident.

Food review: It was worth a try, but not something that I crave to return for. Except if after I find myself enjoying a late Sunday evening/early Monday morning visiting some of the finer gentlemen's club establishments near the airport. Then it will probably hit the spot.

I spent way too much time writing that. I need to get to work.

Excellent writing and great story!

 

[lakemadness]

My Waffle House story.

A few years ago during a PRI show in Indy, our flights home on Sunday night were cancelled. We got accommodation tickets from the airline and stayed the night in a hotel near the airport that I am positive had been used for murders and other nefarious activities on a regular basis.

There was a Waffle House across the street.

After staying up until midnight polishing off whatever cheap case of beer we grabbed from the liquor store next to the hotel, carefully guarded by the cashier protected by thick Plexiglas, we decided it a good idea to head to the Waffle House for breakfast before our 5am shuttle to the airport.

At 4:00 am, we rousted ourselves out of the stained, smelly mattresses after sleeping in our hoodies and jeans to protect ourselves from whatever god awful pathogens were likely on the sheets/comforters, and began the 15ºF walk across the street to the Waffle House.

Between the hotel and Waffle House was a gas station, with a stray medium sized pitbull digging through the garbage cans for whatever it could find to sustain itself. Of course it saw us as we entered the light of the station cover, and started to trot in our direction until we figured it was best to start making ourselves as much of a threat to it's well being as possible. Dog got the hint, trotted off in the other direction, but only to turn back and follow us about 100' behind, so we continued our journey to the much anticipated breakfast at the Waffle House. At 4 AM on a Monday morning.

Alas, the yellow glow of the Waffle House bathed us in its warm light as we approached. Upon entering the brightly lit establishment, and shaking off the cold, we had a chance to verify our surroundings. All 6 booths and 8 breakfast bar stools had been caution taped off to prevent any in house dining. Every single table and eating area was still covered with leftover food and litter from previous clientele. The cook and cashier had already engaged in some sort of argument prior to our arrival, creating a moderately tense atmosphere as we scanned the menu board to sort out what we were going to order.

We figured out our order, politely asked the moderately overweight, 30 something year old caucasian lady cashier if we could place said orders for food, to which we were greeted with: "Yeah, what the f**k do you want?". We assumed this was standard operating procedure in the cashiers employment manual.

We placed our order and patiently remained standing, waiting for our food in the small area between the caution taped, food and litter covered booths and order counter. While waiting, we begin to hear the well known low thud of booming sub woofers getting closer and closer. I'll give you one guess as to what kind of car pulled into the parking lot...Yes, it was a Dodge Challenger on 22" rims.

And wouldn't you know it, 5 young African American gentlemen egress the vehicle and head in to place their order at the Waffle House. I can attest that these 5 young gentlemen were not on their way to an early morning shift at the local factory, but indeed closing out their Sunday night/Monday morning after visiting some of the finer gentlemen's club establishments near the airport, and were well inebriated.

They enter the Waffle House, take a look at the two 35 year old white guys waiting for their food, a slight look of unease and discomfort on their faces (talking about myself and coworker buddy), then proceed to tear down the caution tape closing off the dining area and take their seats at a booth, not caring about the food and little clutter all over the table.

One of the gentlemen then yells to the cashier: "Hey fatty, get your fat ass over here and get us some food!"

To which the cashier politely says back: "Just a minute boys, I'll be right there." It was at this moment that my coworker and I had realized our mistake in the proper method to request service.

After another 5 minutes waiting for our order, our comfort level was not in fact getting any better, but rather declining as the 5 young gentlemen tell stories of their experiences of the night. It became clear that we were in arguably not a good neighborhood.

Our order was called, we grabbed the heavy, grease saturated bag of what some people call food and quickly egressed the establishment to return to our hotel across the street.

Our new dog friend had waited for us outside while we were inside the warm indoors of the Waffle House, and was certainly a bit curious about the bag of food we were carrying with us. We picked up our pace to a little more than a jog, but not quite a full stride run back to the hotel a few hundred yards away, dog in tow. Gracious to say, we made it back without any incident.

Food review: It was worth a try, but not something that I crave to return for. Except if after I find myself enjoying a late Sunday evening/early Monday morning visiting some of the finer gentlemen's club establishments near the airport. Then it will probably hit the spot.

I spent way too much time writing that. I need to get to work.

I know the area you speak of. That's a really shitty part of town no doubt. There is no fuckin way I'd stay in a hotel around there.

The only waffle house I'd go to is one along a highway that is more of a "Road Trip" stop. Not one a ways off of the highway in the ghetto! lol.

 

[JL95]

Hammered drunk at the Waffle House along the gulf in Biloxi MS at 2am is something to behold.

I have a giant buddy who' like the size of a door, we were at waffle house in Louisiana the night before a wedding and he threw up all over the place lmao. The manager remembered him like 2 years later when we went back again.

 

[SeanRitchie]

I know the area you speak of. That's a really shitty part of town no doubt. There is no fuckin way I'd stay in a hotel around there.

The only waffle house I'd go to is one along a highway that is more of a "Road Trip" stop. Not one a ways off of the highway in the ghetto! lol.

It reminded me of the Dave Chapelle bit about being "taken" to the Ghetto without previous knowledge or being prepared...

"Gun store, gun store, liquor store, gun store! Where the f**k you takin me!"

 

[DarkHorseRacing]

It reminded me of the Dave Chapelle bit about being "taken" to the Ghetto without previous knowledge or being prepared...

"Gun store, gun store, liquor store, gun store! Where the f**k you takin me!"

That is a great Dave Chapelle album!

 

[SLT Kota]

Just like in real estate, the WaHo's are all about location location locaction! Choose wisely.

 

[C-Ya]

 

[sprintcvx]

Everything is well in waffle world

https://twitter.com/i/web/status/1844511559113928843

 

[Englewood]

I love me some Waffle House. I eat there often during baseball tournaments in Orlando, Houston, St. Louis, etc.

Kinda like being with a crazy chick. 50/50 if you make it out alive