9:01PM Saturday, August 24th
And I’m outtie. Don’t really have the energy to do a full post-mortem, just here for the moment right now.
Shoutout The DINER staff for kind of just letting me do my thing all day (made sure to shake the manager’s hand on the way out), the homies who pulled through for in-person moral support, and for anyone who bothered to follow along with these updates online. It’s been real.
One bite at a time…peace!
8:30PM Saturday, August 24th
Last push. Thirty minutes of hell.
8:08PM Saturday, August 24th
They brought out the final stack without my prompting. Perhaps they want me as gone as much as I wish to get out of here.
Wanted to show off this incredible cover that Chauncey and Krista brought to commemorate this foray into delusion. It’s quite fitting; I can’t wait to find a frame for it and and a place on my wall to affix.
7:30PM Saturday, August 24th
Figure now is a good time to set the record straight. Despite today’s events, I am not bad at fantasy football.
I am currently the only two-time champion of our esteemed league (in the modern era). I also have two runner-up finishes to my name (we are a twelve man league), one of which includes the infamous, unfortunate, larger-than-fantasy Damar Hamlin Monday night game that was left unfinished…with Diggs and Burrow sitting in my title game starting lineup.
Nevertheless, today might inspire you to still say that I’ve lost my edge, that I no longer have what it takes, that I don’t work the waiver wire anymore like I did in my victorious 2020-21 campaign, having stashed Flames Robinson deep in my bench weeks before he assumed the bell cow role in the Jaguars backfield. And hell, you might just be correct. For today, at least.
But gold medals aren’t won today. Or tomorrow. Or, for most of my league mates, ever.
Championships are an eternal pursuit, and, let me tell you, I feel a divine spirit in this diner right now. If these pancakes could talk, they’d whisper to let you know that I’m allllll the way back.
6:37PM Saturday, August 24th
Ten stacks. Updated strategy is to take a two hour cooler, order one final stack around ~8:30PM, and cruise out by 9PM. I have made peace with falling short of my twelve stack pursuit.
You can only hold grand ambitions above your shoulders for so long before you get tired.
6:23PM Saturday, August 24th
Somehow made it 10+ hours before the first restroom break. Was hoping to find some inspiration at the urinal. Early signs seem to point towards no.
5:51PM Saturday, August 24th
Thought it might help cut up the cakes into bite sized fractals. Having to confront the number of bites needed to knock out this stack is sending me into a downward spiral.
Man in the arena.
5:04PM Saturday, August 24th
Nine down. There’s a non-zero chance I live out the rest of the day and peace and walk through those doors at 11PM.
4:15PM Saturday, August 24th
Trying a new strategy by stacking the pancakes and only observing them from a strict two-dimensional plane. It gives the appearance that I am only eating one at a time.
I’m struggling with incentives to push through this final third. There is no cheat food that would feel rewarding to eat after this. Booze most certainly seems out of the question (though The DINER’s menu does tout an Appalachian Breakfast, which is a milk shake consisting of “vanilla ice cream, milk, bourbon, and bacon, maple syrup”).
And the idea of having to pack up and travel home honestly seems like a chore. I have embraced this sedentary lifestyle; I have become one with this booth.
My portable phone charger is currently sitting strong at 78%. Could probably run out the clock, binge a Curb season, and call it a Saturday with this bad boy still kicking. Only regret so far has been leaving my noise cancelling headphones at home. There’s always next time, I suppose.
3:41PM Saturday, August 24th
Team—I’m going to keep it real with you, I am revising my projected 8PM departure back to 8:30PM. Just knocked out the 8th stack and the last few bites were a battle of will. The good news: I officially will be able to leave this place a winner as I brought my latest possible exit down to midnight.
Just wrapped up a salon with Jake, Daniel, Abi, Chauncey, and Krista. They were all champs for making the trek up ol’ 18th street to show their support. Chauncey and Krista even came bearing an incredible gift that perfectly captures today’s affair (photos to come).
The staff made contact with us multiple times in the last hour expressing their commitment to the cause; I was just passed off to a fourth server to carry the torch. May it stay alight.
1:12PM Saturday, August 24th
The first inklings that this challenge may span beyond twelve hours have hit. Hard. Currently sitting at 13 hours remaining, which is still beyond the break even point for how long this joint is open.
Maddi and Callie joined which has been a welcome change of pace. I’m realizing I still haven’t stood up from this booth. Eyeballing the walkway, I think I could get in a few wind sprints to shovel the mush a tad bit faster through my long intestine. Time for a coffee refill.
12:08PM Saturday, August 24th
Have a pending order for the sixth stack in. Coffee is slowly recharging the batteries to get up for another push.
The manager gave me the wifi password unprompted, so I think I have full staff support for the long haul.
Rochdale eked out a riveting nil-nil draw at home. Probably a match we find a way to lose at the death in previous seasons, so can’t complain too much the third weekend of the season. Feel kinda dumb wearing this kit now for the remainder of the affair.
Friend of the program Devon just patched in for a FaceTime call. Was the camaraderie boost I needed.
10:52AM Saturday, August 24th
Five down. I have ditched the syrup. The chewing is becoming quite tedious. Thinking about starting on the bottomless coffee offering to torch the pallet; my taste buds need a brush fire to breath some new life into this morning.
Rochdale is playing alright. No real chances given up, and we’re looking decently dangerous in the final third. Getting a lot of balls to our wingers in the short corner who have been picking out low crosses back towards the PK spot. Bound to have a goal drop next half.
9:58AM Saturday, August 24th
Four stacks down. Just finished with Oscar Wilde’s De Profundis which was made infinitely more difficult to digest over the sounds of a Khali/Imagine Dragons mashup. A bit poetically fitting of a read given that Wilde wrote it while imprisoned at Reading Gaol.
I am hitting the first wall. Just need to maintain a once-every-seventy-five-minute pace for the remainder, which seems doable. I may only be saying that for the optimism.
My English soccer team, Rochdale, kicks off here at 10AM, so I am thankful to have that to occupy me for the next two hours. See y’all at halftime.
9:09AM Saturday, August 24th
Three stacks down. I have become increasingly afraid that my menu calculus is wildly off. There’s a good chance that a “short stack” refers to only one pancake, which might explain why my insistence on bringing out multiple short stacks at a time has been met with a single plate with two pancakes.
This month’s credit card bill might take an astronomical hit today.
8:41AM Saturday, August 24th
Two stacks down. I’m going with a light syrup drizzle and no butter for these first few. Figure I should enjoy them while my body’s synapses are still capable of firing off serotonin after each bite.
8:28AM Saturday, August 24th
First stack down. Early and often.
8:18AM Saturday, August 24th
Waiting on the group chat to come to a consensus on what a short stack equates to time wise. I’m initially leaning a hair over the hour mark. Perhaps 75 minutes?
Anyways, you know what they say. There’s only one way to eat an elephant:
One bite at a time.
8:10AM Saturday, August 24th
Second patron in the establishment, so I had my choice of the land for seats. Went for a booth back that has an outlet under my legs. They are playing top 40 radio way, way too loud for 8:09AM.
Just put in my first two short stack orders and explained the table stakes for the day to the server. I can overhear her laughing with the other staff in the open kitchen setup. If w/r/t my current situation, I’ll take it. That seems like the reaction of an ally.
7:44AM Saturday, August 24th
I’m a chronically late individual, so it’s by some miracle that I made it with time to kill. Currently sauntering around the neighborhood listening to comfort music. Trying not to get too high, trying not to get too low.
7:37AM Saturday, August 24th
Made it on the bus to The DINER by a hair which got the juices flowing. Hopefully this adrenaline boost can propel me beyond the first drive jitters and allow me to hit the ground running when the doors swing out in 23 minutes.
I’m leaning towards ripping the band-aid immediately and informing the servers of the situation I’m in. You have to, right? I’m a bit nervous they won’t be as amenable to the setup. But what else can you do. Excelsior.
6:12AM Saturday, August 24th
Just awoke, and my initial diagnosis is that I am less hungry than anticipated. Yikes. Going to get the body moving a bit to see if I can kick the hunger into third gear.
They say the darkest hour, is right before the dawn.
9:08PM Friday, August 23rd
Hello, and welcome to the most delusional twenty-four hours* of my life. For context, I finished last in my fantasy football league this past year. And with the next season right around the corner (we draft on Sunday), I figured it was time to suck it up and take my medicine by serving the punishment fitting the crime for the Mingo Mango Mongo’s performance: tomorrow, I must remain within the confines of a Waffle House for twenty-four consecutive hours.
*In a perfect world, I would pay my dues inside an actual Waffle House. But, as I am carless, my options have been limited to either an iHop or a local breakfast eatery with similarly liberal business hours. iHop, a notorious all-day venue, was a natural alternative. However, their Belgian waffle's market price quickly priced it out of the market for this challenge.
Their Belgian waffle costs $18.
This brings me to The Diner, which opens at the ripe time of 8:00AM tomorrow, and, if I play my cards right, should be able to house me for the duration of my sentence as their doors do not close until midnight.
I will give it to you straight: I am scared. I am scared as I have no clue how to prepare for the long road ahead. Over the last few days, I feel as if I have been forced to describe the experience of a rollercoaster that I am still waiting in line to ride.
I limited my caloric intake tonight to one-fourth of a leftover Chipotle bowl and a single slice of peanut butter toast. Will this be enough to give me the decisive edge tomorrow? Perhaps not; but hungry dogs might just run faster.
This live blog will be the home for following along for those unable to attend the suffering in person. To my fantasy football comrades: I will strive to set an honorable example. To my loved ones: well, I love you. To you, reader: I hope you find more excitement in your weekend than the words on this page.
Holla!
Update?
Well said. U are a winner for the effort that most would not take on 👍