This Denny’s was one of the first things I noticed when parking our vehicle at the hotel for New Year’s Eve. A Denny’s? Well, it’s home to a funny, memorable incident in 1983 during my first visit to San Antonio.
For some idiotic reason, my parents thought it would be fun and/or great to make a weekend trip to San Antonio with my grandparents while they were squatting at our house in Houston. Beyond the nice weather for January (it was Spring-like for a Midwesterner), the entire time was boring, stressful and proved to be a stupid idea. My being 14 didn’t help, it’s the age many American teens are probationary Randroids. There were laughs regarding some of our hotel room’s bathroom door damage we discovered, but the piece de resistance (sic) happened at this Denny’s.
After having breakfast, my brother, my dad and I hit the restroom since the next stop was The Alamo. While doing our business, there was this dude in a stall grunting and groaning as if his rectum were being expelled. I can’t spell the noises he made but I can imitate it well. My brother and I could barely contain our laughter at the misfortune. Today, I would be wondering why this guy wasn’t politely covering his mouth or gagging himself to spare us the play-by-play of his struggle. As we left, I had the horrible realization…we just ate at the same place as him? Oh no! Will this be our fate in a few hours or less? The manage should do something too. Those noises are not an endorsement for the Denny’s neither.
Have I ever eaten there in my 26 years of Austin livin’? No. I mean, Denny’s is everywhere and when you visit a nearby city, you want to try something you don’t have at home unless you’re in a hurry.