Postcard from Waffle House

(apologies to Salinger)

This is me, Mom, sweating on the edge of some crazy blue-hot griddle. My job (my real job, Mom),
what I have to do… is catch the hamburger grease bullets before they slam into the home fries. I mean, if they start running and I look the other way at a girl or something like Alaska, they run wild. Of
course, they don’t know what they’re doing, and I have to wake up in time and catch them and herd
them back with my flipper. That’s all I do. I know it’s crazy, but I herd grease blobs, Mom.

~

Rutherford County, NC
Summer 2010
Vivitar P+S, 35mm, asa200