Wednesday, August 03, 2022

 

The Huddle House

 


I realized earlier that my blog promises "rants, mumbling, repressed memories, recipes and haiku," but I really have only been delivering rants, mumbling, and haiku. I need to step it up with the repressed memories and recipes!

So, let's go with a repressed memory today.

There are certain locations that appear often in my dreams. Some make sense: my childhood home, or a neighborhood in Waco. But others are places I only went to once perhaps, so the deep meaning of that place is hard to discern.

I know that at some point when I was at William and Mary, or shortly thereafter, I went to a Huddle House restaurant in a small town in Virginia. (for those of you not from Alabama and vicinity, a Huddle House is kind of a cut-rate Waffle House, usually located in little towns). I don't remember where it was, exactly, or who I was with, but very clearly remember my order: biscuit with grits and a hot chocolate. That's three things-- biscuit, grits, hot chocolate-- that I pretty much don't like, so that part is weird in itself. 

Anyways, the Huddle House shows up ALL THE TIME in my dreams and is a place where surprising people show up, some of them deceased. I'm often waiting for someone but don't know who, and fuss over my order. 

I haven't actually been to a Huddle House since then, so I'm not real familiar with the current menu, but I sometimes have to order for the person I'm with, too, since no one can see them.

Hmmmm.... maybe these repressed memories should just stay that way! 

Comments:
I went to a Huddle House in Chicago when I was about 5 years old. It was the first time that I ever encountered cereal in those little boxes that you can cut open as use as a bowl.

The next time I was at a Huddle House was about 5 years ago (so over 50 years later) in St. Paul, Virginia. St. Paul is Northwest of Abingdon, Virginia. Its closer to Detroit than Richmond.
 
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