I dashed to Denny's; I left hungry

I dashed to Denny's; I left hungry

5:30 a.m.: My alarm starts ringing, but I have been up for a while already. It's like Christmas for Jews. My brother Travis and Jed, my other roommate, emerge from their rooms and we hop in my car, then pick up my best friend, Micah. We're on our way to free Denny's!


Let's recap:

Four smelly college guys (three of whom are Jewish) are packed into a car before sunrise. There are VERY few situations in which this scenario could occur -- but free food is definitely one of them.
We make the drive to Denny's, thinking we are the cleverest motherfuckers ever for getting there before the rush, 'cause no one is going to be there until, like, 7:30 or 8, right? 

Now, if I were going to continue with this ironic Christmas for Jews analogy, I would say that we ran downstairs and found that a dog had eaten all of our presents, peed on our Christmas tree and shit on Santa's cookies. 

Because there was a long, winding line OUT THE DOOR at six in the morning.... Who knew so many people watched the Super Bowl?

It left us Chosen Ones with quite a dilemma: waiting in line versus free food. (Waiting in line is a mortal enemy of Jews: I was once at a wedding where the rabbi sat down and anxiously stared at the crowd around the buffet for around 45 minutes because he hated waiting in line.)

After a quick debate, we decided that the wait just wasn't worth it -- even if we'd all get free Grand Slams at the end of it. So we turned around and went home, disappointed.

And everyone went back to sleep. Except me, because I was thinking of making my own Grand Slam at home out of spite. Hmm...crack two eggs into a pan, heat up some bacon in the microwave, spray some pancakes into another pan, toast some bread.


I ended up making my everyday breakfast of oatmeal and coffee, and then played video games for two and a half hours. If Michael Phelps was my thought process, I went from this to this

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