pancakes 'R' us

last week my roommate and i were craving breakfast for dinner, so we trekked down the street to the omelet parlor. it was closed, so we stood there for a second thinking about where we could satisfy our cheese blintzes craving. emily suggested "pancakes R us" down the street (with the R backwards), so the three of us (jeff, emily and i) decided it would at least be a funny story later and proceeded to trek even further down the street to pancakes R us.

to get a visual of this place, picture the most greasy midwest breakfast place you can think of, and stick it in the middle of newport beach. we walked in and it smelled like a mixture of a convalescent home and an 80's hair salon. there was a huge yellow sign by the register that said "PLEASE HELP AFGHAN CHILDREN" with a little money box underneath it.

after we were seated hilary joined us, and just in time because i could never have imagined what would happen next.

our waitress, a large woman with a terrible bleached hair job, came to our table right as jeff was telling us that he had a job interview. as i asked him what job it was for, without saying hello or anything, our waitress chimed in with "your dream job?! working as a hooker for $4,000 an hour for the mayor?? PAY BY THE POUND!!!", grabbed her stomach, and jiggled it around a little bit. we all sat there and stared at her, shocked at what had just happened. she laughed awkwardly and a little less excited said, "well, maybe just my dream job. can i get you guys something to drink?"

it was pretty much like that the rest of the evening. every time she came over we tried to get her to say something equally as funny. there were some pretty funny quotes, but the only one i really remember (other than the epic first one) is something about not telling her husband's first wife that she could cook. i'm not really sure why not, but hey, i'll oblige.

all joking aside, i ended up with the best pancakes i've ever eaten in my life. i'm totally going there again and i'm taking you all with me.