mmmm, hashbrown casserole


I crashed at Michelle’s Thursday night, waking up early the next morning feeling a bit queasy. Thankfully, though I’d been drinking martinis the night before, they were with Ketel One and not with rail liquor; had they been I might still be hanging over the toilet, sick as a dog. I don’t handle cheap vodka well AT ALL.

So thankfully my stomach settled. I got home right around noon, ate, took a catnap on my awesome sleepy couch, took a shower and got ready to head up to Philly for Julie’s surprise party.

I stopped at the Cracker Barrel off of 95 in Riverside, because I’d woken up with a  hankering for hashbrown casserole. I love Cracker Barrel’s hashbrown casserole. Yum yum yum.

What I don’t understand, however, is the looks one gets when one dines alone. Both of the hostess girls gave me looks of sheer pity when I informed them I’d be dining alone. What’s the big deal? I had something to read, I had my phone. Why am I required to have a companion to enjoy a meal? I sat down and placed my order; read the magazine I’d brought with me, and had a lovely lunch that I positively inhaled.

Has this ever happened to anyone else? Getting looks when you dine alone? It’s annoying, to be sure.


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