Waffle House Bargain

Rebekah and Dorothy (Reb & Dot) delight us from time to time by stopping in for an overnighter with or without their boys. We are conveniently located halfway between their home and Reb's family, normally a 10-hour trip. They are the most polite guests ever. They even travel with their own scented candle to burn in our bathroom because, as Reb puts it, "Boys are stinky." I doubted that a 7 or 14-year-old can create a stench in the bathroom worse than Marty's. "You'd be surprised," Reb replied. Dot nodded, and the look in her eyes made me a believer.

This time, Reb and Dot planned to overnight with us, but got a very late start. Although the boys were not with them for this trip, they didn't make it too far south before stopping overnight. "Maybe we can meet for breakfast instead?" they offered, "We have your quilt rack."

Oh crap. I forgot about that quilt rack. Reb offered it on Facebook for 40 bucks months ago, and I said I'd take it. I'd been looking for a nice one to display my great-grandmother's quilt. Our house is actually a little out of the way for them. Staying overnight is a convenience, but given their late start I knew it would be more convenient for us to meet them along interstate 77 in the morning. It would take us only a half hour to get there - no biggie. They selected a Waffle House and texted the address. Our text messaging in the morning went something like this:

Reb:  We are hitting the road. See you at 11:15.

Me:  (10:54 a.m.) Damn construction delays. We are stopped, of course.

Reb: (11:05 a.m.) We're here. Moving yet?
Me: Order without us; don't let us hold you up. GPS says we still have 30 miles.
Reb: Gotcha.

Me: (11:15 a.m.) GPS still says 30 miles.
Reb: On a Saturday? Are they at least working on the road?
Me: Don't know. Still merging.
Reb: Oh joy. Lord. We'll leave it in the grass by the parking lot for you.
Me: Sounds perfect. This better be an amazing quilt fuckin rack. <smile emoji>

Me: (11:26 a.m.) I have to poop.
Reb: Eeewwwwwwwhhhh. I'm eating. You shouldda done that at home.

Me: (11:37 a.m.) Finally moving!
Dot: Are you talking about traffic or your bowels?!?
Me: Does it matter?

Me: (11:50 a.m.) 8 more miles!
Reb: Waiting for you in the parking lot. Got an offer of $75 for the quilt rack.
Me: SELL IT! I'm only willing to do $40.
Reb: Are you sure?
Me: YES! I would do it to you in a heartbeat.

And this is how it came to be that Reb & Dot got $75 richer by selling a quilt rack to a creepy stranger in a Waffle House parking lot, and how Marty and I drove 30 miles in 90 minutes to NOT have breakfast with our friends, AND return home empty-handed. After exchanging hugs and brief family news, they continued south, leaving Marty and me waving from the parking lot.

Furniture sales - Reb & Dot's next career.