A Barrel of Crackers

Just got back from breakfast with McDougal. We do Cracker Barrel every Saturday. They know us there, and pretend not to notice that we smuggle in a handle of Jack Daniels to wash down our pancakes.

It was McDougal's week to buy, but of course he didn't have any money.

He flirted a bit with the waitress (a retired roller derby queen with one blue eye and one green, she goes about 5'8" and 215. Built like a refrigerator with a head.) and convinced her to pay for our breakfast and "give herself a nice tip. Don't be stingy now."

She put him on a 2-year, no payment, and no interest loan for two Uncle Herschel's breakfasts, two chocolate milks, and two cups of coffee.

McDougal said he's gonna try to pay it off within the two years to avoid the interest charges, and next week, he's bringing in $3.50 for his first payment.

The manager asked me not to come back.

I think he wanted to say the same to McDougal, but was scared because McDougal ate his brother about four years ago.