One of the truly splendid parts of my brief return home to Shreveport has been to rejoin my fellow Louisianians who dine in the wee hours at IHOP. As any large town does, Shreveport also has a locally run all-night diner that serves greasy food, and it of course has regular interesting characters. But that's sort of obvious. If Murrell's did not have regular interesting characters, no one would eat there except for the drunks. On the other hand, I was surprised when I realized that IHOP has such a lively community. The fact becomes obvious on nights like New Year's Eve when the place is packed with strangers at 2 am.
First of all you've got the wait staff: the black girl with corn rows who can often be caught imitating Jim Carrey (By the way, who in the world is gonna vote for that guy! I mean he's just an actor people! Even given Eternal Sunshine, should he really be President?), some girl my friend thinks looks like Britanny Spears but doesn't, and a host of less interesting waitresses, the youngest of which is the only one who will refer to you as "hon." Then you've got perennials like the bad kids, the goth kids, the kids who buy way too much of their wardrobe from American Eagle and A&F, a blonde police officer who is the most attractive woman I've ever seen at IHOP and her huge wrestler-looking boyfriend, a friend I used to be in youth group with but rarely talk to, a middle-aged couple, three unattractive girls/women who are dressed up, and of course there's always that someone in there who you know you recognize but can't figure out from where. I once saw a girl who was in my homeroom for all 6 years in elementary school there. I was once followed there by an old high school friend who reintroduced me to the Cure. But no matter who you see there, you must follow the unwritten rule that no two parties may merge into a single party. And when you go up to the front to pay, you pick up a cinnamon peppermint, which is perhaps the most disgusting candy I consume on a regular basis, but the IHOP experience would not be complete without it.
In Shreveport only one location rivals the sheer magnetic running-into-people power of IHOP, and it's not Thrifty Liquor. To be continued . . .
Posted by tdupuy at May 16, 2004 5:34 AM