Monday, 12 September 2011
Just as I nestled my tired butt into our booth, two cute elderly ladies were getting up from their table right next to us. As one helped the other into her walker, well, how do I put this delicately? Hmmm....as one helped the other into her walker, the lady with the walker, she, umm. Ok. Well, she ripped one. Ok. She farted. Yes I said it. And everyone heard it. But, unfortunately for me, my face was a foot from her polyester crack.
Welcome to the Village Inn.
As we awaited our food I noticed one employee at the counter chewing her nails. Really going to town. Like trying to break the Guiness Book of World Records. It was distracting. And disgusting.
That said. We had a wonderful server with a nativity scene apron. Wow. Hmmm....I believe Mary has mustard on her forehead. I enjoyed the basic eggs over medium, hash browns (perfectly crisp on top) and my buttermilk cakes. So the food was actually tasty. The flatulence and nail biting I guess were just a bonus.
Apparently every Village Inn has its idiot.
