Some friends and I decided to go to a local Waffle House for breakfast before church this morning. So we’re at the table talking about how our weekend turned out and perused through the menu to place our orders. And then our server comes…………with pink braids.

Not a soft, pale pink (like that really makes a difference), but hot pink. And I’m not talking microbraids, either. I’m talkin’ about the big dookie braids that Janet Jackson rocked in Poetic Justice. Big ass pink, or as we say down South, pank, braids. And get this……..no hair net. *gasp*

Now I’m not one to be rude to waitresses, because I don’t want anyone spitting in my food, but this chick ain’t had not nann (yeah, I broke every verb with that one) hair net on and I’m supposed to let her serve me food? I think not.

I politely gathered my things and told my friends, “I’ll see you guys at church. And I’ll pray that you don’t choke on a pink strand of hair.”

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