The Detective and The Mysterious Case of the Half-Waffle

You thought it was never going to happen? You doubted me?

Years of investigative training and experience and even then you thought this guy would never get this one. Oh sure he has solved multiple homicide cases with little or no evidence. Tracked down countless suspects who left the trail equivalent of a ghost. Sure he outmaneuvered the best of them in the interrogation room. But this? This?

But you were wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

O ye of little faith.

Sure, I could have left the question unanswered. I could have just sat back and watched  all of you suffer in agony as you pulled your hair out by the handfuls pondering the mystery. I could have just waited until you came to me like a street junkie looking for the next fix without having money to pay for it (interesting). I could have done all that. But I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Kidding, I would. But I didn’t.

I am, of course, referring to the mystery of the half-waffle at Jimmy’s Egg breakfast restaurant. If you read a recent blog post of mine you know that I recently became eligible to take part in the 55+ section of the menu at Jimmy’s Egg. My favorite choice is the egg, bacon, and half-waffle plate. Being the curious child I have always been I wondered how they made the half-waffle. Do they make an entire waffle and cut in half and give you one of the halves? Or do they have a half-a-waffle maker?

The game was afoot!

I would have bet any amount of money they had a half-waffle machine back there. Or at least I wanted them to have one. If they don’t then every time they make it one half a waffle gets thrown out. Unless, like today, my sister and I both go in there and order the half-waffle breakfast for the cool 55+ crowd. For all practical purposes my sister and I shared a waffle but paid separately for each half. I see what you did there again Jimmy. Very clever.

But there was only one way to know. You ask. Go to Jimmy’s Egg and ask. Don’t google it. Don’t call some Jimmy’s Egg Emergency Hotline so you can be put on hold an hour. Just ask. So that’s what I did.

Jimmy’s egg  wasn’t born in the Rio Grande Valley. It was born in Oklahoma. And, as you can guess, it serves white people food. By that I mean you won’t find any refried beans or tortillas on the menu. They serve omlets. Which, if you think of it, is scrambled eggs shaped into a burrito, so yeah, that is strange. They also, upon request, will separate the egg yolk from the egg white and make all sorts of ungodly dishes with just the egg white. Hey. What do they do with the yolk? Another mystery! The game is now afoot for the other foot! Afeet? Later.

Anyway, like I said, Jimmy’s is from Oklahoma. But I guess some smart kid at Jimmy’s restaurant in Oklahoma finally figured out where all their old white customers disappeared to for half the year and followed them down here to South Texas to stop them from eating our refried beans and tortillas. Smart move Jimmy. Very clever. Wait is there even a real Jimmy? Wow. I would hate for there to be a Jimmy’s Egg and for there not to be a Jimmy. That would be wrong. Are people from Oklahoma liars? I hope not. Anyway.

Today our waitress was a young and pretty girl with short dark hair. She was skinnier than a human body should ever be allowed to be and had the cutest accent. Kind of like when Julie Bowen tries to imitate Sophia Vergara on the show Modern Family. Kind of like that. But cuter.

After taking our order I straight up and asked her about the waffle. You have to catch people off guard like that if you want the truth. She gave me that look people give Congress when they are testifying under oath.

After that a little line of sweat formed on her upper lip. It was cute, but telling. She was about to open up her mouth and lie when I stopped her, “Don’t. Just don’t. Tell us about the half waffle.” She looked at me kind of bewildered and embarrassed and said, “I don’t know.”

She was good. I mean real good. And to be honest, that would have stopped the regular interrogator dead in their tracks. Not me. Not today. “Go ask somebody” I said. I had her. That trapped in the headlights look on her face said it all. She turned around and went to the kitchen. I saw her talking to some big guy with a beard who was flipping some pancakes. They both looked in my direction nervously. After some back and forth between the two, which include some rather animated hand movements, she came back to our table.

“They make a whole waffle and then cut it in half”, she said, kind of embarrassed. I asked her what do they did with the other half of the waffle. She hesitated, then whispered, “they throw them away”.  She then walked off. Embarrassed even more I guess. Good move too. I was so tempted to ask her about the half-sandwich, the egg yolk mystery, and if there was really a Jimmy or not. I just didn’t think she could handle it, and I did not want to get her skinny butt fired either. So I let it go. My work was done here anyway.

We finished our respective half-waffles and left. My sis left a big tip. Some nonsense about me giving the poor girl a hard time. Ha! Not even close. Okay, maybe a little.

Anyway, till next time. There are other mysteries out there.

Have a great day.

 

P. S. I googled Jimmy’s egg. There is no Jimmy. Turns out Oklahomans are liars. Not cool.