I saw a billboard for IHOP that said, “All-you-can-eat pancakes! They’re back!”
Isn’t it fascinating what things come back that make you wonder who ever missed them in the first place? It’s obvious the International House of Pancakes has a target customer who has been anxiously awaiting the return of endless pancakes. Does the billboard serve as some revelation? What sad soul has been languishing in their existence, reserved to some cruel pancake quota? I can only imagine his morning commute leading up to the sign, cursing the world and its unjust carb consumption boundaries.
Oh life. How I despair you. What pitiful meals I’ve been having. No restaurant is in business to give their customers what they want. And you should know what I want! You think ten pancakes will satisfy my hunger? I had ten pancakes before I left the house. I brushed my teeth with Country Crock and and woke up to an alarm of flour bombs bursting in my face. If only people cared about their customers. IHOP used to. With their all-you-can-eat pancake times. They were fully aware that I would enjoy a nice breakfast of 300 pancakes. Ahh the memories. Ahh the glory days. Who could forget the four-hour February feast, or the time I guzzled an entire jar of boysenberry syrup? Or the time they let me back into the kitchen with the fresh, hot pancakes and the cook just flipped them into my mouth until my buttons popped off? Never again. Never a—Wait. Could it be? They’re back? All-you-can-eat pancakes are back?! Ha…Ha…Hahahahaha! Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh. Wha. Wha wha wha?! OK. OK. Calm down. You’re driving man. OK think…Where’s the closest IHOP? Where THE HELL is the closest IHOP?…Yummmmmm. Yummmmmmm. Hold it together man! Grmrmrmrmrm. Grmrmrmrm. OUCH! I’m eating my hand. Stop it! Stop it!…Grmrmmrmrm. Grmrmrmrm. I wish I were a pancake! But I’m not, I’m not!…Yes I am! I am a pancake and I’m back! I’m all I can eat! GRMRMRMRNRM. GRMRMRMRMRM. GRMRMRMNRMRMRM…
And then probably, a horrible crash.