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…at the Waffle House on Christmas Eve.

OK, so that’s not how the song goes, but it happened.

A couple of weeks ago, at breakfast, a couple came in, older, close to my age…you know, really old.

He shuffled over to the juke box and played some of the strangest music I’d heard…at least for someone his age.

Juke

The next thing we knew, he’d pulled a chair into the middle of the floor, and his “date” was giving him a lap dance.

I’m not making this UP.  I have it on video.

Which, BTW, I can’t get to play on anything but my phone.

As the spectacle started, one of the Watrii (that’s plural for waitress) whispered, “Paul, Paul, look!”, and I grabbed the phone asap and started recording.

Well, sure as Chautauqua, there they came on Christmas Eve.

And grandpa got run over by a lap dance at the Waffle House on Christmas Eve.

Really folks, when they say dinner and a show, they aren’t kidding.

Bow chick a wow wow!

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