Land Monsters

Today was going to be a great lunch. I was excited. It's not everyday that you get the chance to eat Cracker Barrel. Chicken N Dumplins or Chicken Fried Steak or Grilled Chicken Fingers....aahhhhhh, then there's breakfast - served all day! If you could get the greatest day of your life and transform it into one terrific restaurant you'd have the Cracker Barrel. I could barely contain myself on the drive over.

But the #1 worst thing that could ever happen ever was awaiting me in the parking lot upon arrival: a charter bus full of terribly dressed, lethargic, confused 80 year olds were piling into the restaraunt/country store. It was like they had never seen buildings before. They looked like a bunch of cows who had accidentally escaped the pasture and had no clue what to do next. I was in trouble. I ran inside, trying to bypass a few of the grazers, but it was futile. I stood at the podium forever as the hostess tried to communicate logically to these land monsters. Apparently "4 at a time" to an 80 year old means "please ignore me and just walk to a table in a huge cluster". It was mass chaos. There were old people everywhere - so confused and old.

I wondered (a little) why old people aren't normal. Why can't they hear? Why don't they listen? Why do they wear those clothes? Why do they look so out of place? I mostly wondered why these geezers were getting to eat the delicious food that was supposed to be mine. Goodbye biscuits and gravy.

But, alas, when life serves you lemons, you should be thankful for your youth and high metabolism and go to Ikes and eat a huge cheeseburger. It was delicious.

(note: please know that I love old people. Well, that's not true. I loved my grandpa, Pop, he was the man. I just really don't like when tons of old people, who should never leave their home, get on a tour bus, wear name tags, and decide to clog up production at the eatery in which I am visiting.)