I drank my first coffee, in high school, at the Athens Waffle House right beside I-65. It was weak but it was the strongest thing I'd drank up to that point. It was cooling down while Willie Nelson was coming up on the juke box and it is a memory I've had burned into my brain since.
I've spent all kinds of nights there in the years since, as a young guy then as a college guy, then as a married guy, then as a father, then as a father twice-over. There ain't any close to us here in Boston, but you know right where to find me when my travels take me back home. At a booth in the back, with a pot of coffee, a table full of friends, and a plate of hash browns all the way.