Somewhere in the great state of Utah is a hotel with an IHOP next to it. Somewhere in the great state of Utah I have been to said IHOP, taking full advantage of the fact that it is open 24 hours a day. Meaning I was there very late/early in the night/morning.
It all started innocently enough with a lacrosse road trip to Utah. After playing a double header, a teammate, Kevin, decided to go to Subway and partake in some sandwiches. Along with several of our team members, we descended on the local sub-making establishment and proceeded to tie up their facilities for a good amount of time. They were turning away people at the drive through. People in the drive through apparently can’t be bothered to wait and go to the McDonalds two parking lots over.
On the way back to the hotel, Kevin and I stop at a local gas station for further refreshment. We went in with the intent of buying Gatorade, for after two lacrosse games in warm weather, we had lost large amounts of both water and electrolytes. Alas, this gas station had a walk-in beer cooler. Walk-in. Filled with beer. Understanding that we could not pass up an opportunity to buy beer in Utah from a walk-in gas station cooler, our plans changed. Being the good engineering students, we quickly calculated that the 18 pack was a better buy than either a 6 or 12 pack, and neither of us wanting to be deprived of the thrill of purchasing beer in Utah, we both bought and 18-pack of beer.
The rest of the afternoon and early evening passed relatively uneventfully. We consumed the Subs and drank beer while watching a basketball game. Neither of us stood up for a number of hours until Kevin arose to relieve himself, got half way up, and fell back into the couch. I found this quite funny, because seriously, was he on the verge of being inebriated? We did a tally, Kevin: 8 beers left. Me: 9. Now the competition was on in full.
(Not realizing that we were just at or over halfway) We set out to finish our respective cases. This too would soon pass as repeated trips to a bathroom and “clever” switching of remaining cans ensued. Eventually, the game was given up and we, along with other member of the team, headed to IHOP, because, duh, pancakes and beer totally go together.
Our waitress at IHOP was named Pebbles. At least that’s what her nametag said. (Looking back, I have a sneaking suspicion it was a stage name, like a stripper. Apparently, in Utah, working at an all night IHOP is right up there with strip clubs.) The pancakes were excellent, as was the 4-kinds-of-syrup, Tabasco, ketchup and orange juice cocktail the guys whipped up. The hash browns in the drink, a little excessive. Even drunk people will recognize solid food in a liquid.
The top two moments of the night:
1) We had requested crayons to color on the place mats. Kevin decided to write a message that Zona sucked. Zona was quick to point out that in the days games, he had more points than Kevin, so if he sucked, then Kevin must as well. Already having written “Zona” in crayon, Kevin’s final message read, “Zona Us Suck”. It’s sad how pronoun usage is the first thing to go.
2) The guy at the table next to us proposed. In front of 4 friend and 7 lacrosse players from Colorado. At 1:30 am in an IHOP with a waitress named Pebbles. For his sake, I really hope he was as inebriated as some of us.
I played great the next day, but everyone from the other team moved really fast. Weird. I knew I should have finished the rest of that beer.