if you go to denny’s anytime soon, watch out for the chicken parmesan sandwich. it may sound like a good idea, but it’s just a ruse. actually, why do i even go to denny’s? every time i go, i leave with a heavy, unpleasant, “i shouldn’t have eaten that” feeling. and yet i inevitably return at some point because of the ever-present draw of mozzarella sticks; it’s a weakness i’ll never live down. they’re just so tasty!

(this is where i break down sobbing).

something else about last night at denny’s made me curious too. when we came in, there was a pair of police officers having their dinner in one booth. that was fine, because police officers have to eat sometime. denny’s is an okay place to do it, i guess. but then they finished and left midway through our meal, and probably less than five minutes later, a new pair of officers came in and started eating dinner. my interest wasn’t that two pairs of policemen had alternate dinner shifts, but that they both decided to eat at the same empty, low quality restaurant. maybe denny’s is the official dinner break of the LAPD? do they give discounts to crime fighters? does this denny’s have an optimal strategic location in case some emergency arises mid-moons-over-my-hammy? i really should have just asked and saved myself this mental frustration, i know.