If you order one, the waffle comes first. It’s the quickest thing to make, and even if you order it a extra golden like I do (“leave it in there a little too long”), what I think of as dessert comes before the meal. But that’s the way of Waffle House.
Jackson, Mississippi, Polaroid Land Camera with Fuji FP-3000b (2015). This is the one up around where that K-Mart was, if you remember that.
This isn’t a usual Waffle House, but the Coast Palace in Biloxi—surrounded by live oaks and raised up fifteen feet to brace for wind or water. No matter how distinct on the outside, the minute you walk in you could be anywhere in America.
The sun just came up, and I only get a mumbled “welcometo” from the cook when I sit at the bar. The two servers are sitting by themselves, one playing videos real loud on her phone, the other with her head in her hands. A ballad by Adele blares.
Jackson, Miss., Polaroid SX-70 (2017). Pretty sure this is the one on Northside Drive.
I over order, but I just gave a mediocre speech the day before and spent the night in a casino hotel, so I’m allowed. There is a lot you can say about Waffle House but one thing that is important is that it is a friend to the vegetarian. You can eat like royalty there and asking to leave something off or add something in is not frowned upon and even better, no one cares. So you can get two eggs scrambled with cheese, no meat on the side, and ask them to actually cook the hashbrowns (“crispy”) and it’s just a normal day at the office.
Polaroid SX-70 (2015). This is not at a Waffle House, it is a metaphor. I think it’s a laundromat in Brooklyn if I’m remembering right. I just recalled I sold the original and that feels like a bad choice right about now.
Unfortunately Adele stops bellowing and this vanilla garbage starts playing, what Phoebe Bridgers would call “some America first country rap song.” It’s that kind of music where the singer is trying so hard to sound “Southern” that they just list off nouns: truck, daddy, camo, baby. I find it condescending and worse, devoid of any real emotion. I wish they’d put Adele back on; maybe it’s overwrought but still deadly sincere, which I can really get behind.
I have been to some good Waffle Houses and a few great ones, and of course some terrible ones, but the main point is that you are in a limbo zone where there is hopefully comfort and coffee. Unlike going to a fancy restaurant I don’t pray for excellence, I just expect it to be okay and that I’ll feel good when I leave. There is a lot to be said for that.
Jackson, Miss., Polaroid SX-70 (2017)
“Scattered Smothered Peppered Crispy” is this week’s installment of GORJUS, a newsletter devoted to art and life in the South on instant film. If you like it, consider sending it to a pal. Just like anything, some weeks are better than others. I’m gorjusjxn on Instagram, and you can see more Polaroids at McCartyPolaroids.