[Kings Waffle] Chapter 1: This is The Place

Jul 15

"You guys must come here a lot, no?" said the state trooper sitting at the low counter with us. "If this were a bar, we'd be drunks" I replied. He laughed before facing his palms to the sky and praying before his meal. It was a crude, unflattering answer, but probably the simplest way to describe how often we're here.

At the Waffle House.

"Kings" Waffle House to be specific.

I'm not sure there's a good way to articulate the whole concept without being judged. As soon as the words "last night at Waffle House" escape from your lips you can see a look on the face of the person you're talking to. The look that silently asks: "Why the hell are you hanging out at the Waffle House?"

Go to a Starbucks and read? That's normal.

Meet with clients at Panera? Good business practice.

Hang out at Waffle House? You're weird.

I'll tell you what though, I'd rather sit on the curb in the waffle parking lot conversing with other regulars than chug low fat lattes in a dime-a-dozen strip mall coffee joint pretending I'm in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower on some quaint, charming Parisian street. Hell, we have an Eiffel Tower too except it's an amusement park replica across the highway.

- Looking out at the replica Eiffel Tower from the Kings Waffle parking lot.

I've been coming to Kings Waffle for about four years and the story takes some explaining. Technically, you have to go back to 2005 when I turned sixteen and spent my birthday in an interview room at Kings Island Amusement Park (KI). I was finally old enough to be a rides employee. I spent the next eight summers and a few winters working there. It was the best job I've ever had with some of the best people I'd ever know (I assume). The Waffle House across the street - we'd venture over there from time to time to get food after work. I'll admit though, it was more like a novelty thing. You know, as the naive saying goes: "who actually goes to Waffle House sober anyways?"

That changed in 2010.

One day after work at KI, I joined some friends at a bar: Ben, his then girlfriend Liz, her roommate Sarah and this kid named Matt Wilkes. "How you doing, brother? It's been awhile," said Matt, extending his hand and a smile. He asked me how work was and what I had been up to before excusing himself to fetch another cheap beer. I would say it was good to see him again, but truthfully, I had no idea who he was. Ben filled me in: Matt was a former KI employee who now worked at the nearby and somewhat rival Beach Waterpark. According to Facebook, Matt and I have been friends since July 2008, but until I shook his hand that night in the summer of 2010 - I could've sworn I'd never met him a day in my life, let alone two years ago. Not that it mattered, Matt and I became fast friends when he was the only one who would come with me to see a screening of Raiders of the Lost Ark at an old theatre. I started meeting up with Ben and Matt at Waffle House after ending shifts at our respective amusement establishments and essentially we've never stopped. Even now, I'm typing out this story at the low counter and sipping coffee (half a cream, a generous amount of sugar).

In the time I've been coming here I've befriended many people who I probably wouldn't have known or met in the world outside this 24/7 restaurant parking lot. For me, this place has been (and continues to be) a meeting place, a gathering hall, a Seinfeld-esque coffee shop, the bar from Cheers, a dinner theatre, a lecture hall, a political arena, a drama class, a soap box, a therapy clinic and perhaps most importantly: a place to get cheap coffee anytime.

The Waffle House never closes and if for some reason it does - there's probably bigger problems going on given that FEMA rates a disaster based on whether or not a store has actually shut down. Kings Waffle is always there, so are it's people. Regarding us "regulars," my friend Steph once said: "We're all loners in some way." Phil described it as "we're a late night diner crowd." Perhaps words don't do full justice to the people of Kings Waffle, each unique and wonderful in their own way. They're a true representation of what Waffle House is, not just cheap coffee and greasy food, but a melting pot in the way America is romantically envisioned. It doesn't matter who you are, where you're from, if you can afford a BMW or if you panhandle next to the highway - anyone and everyone is welcome. I wanted to start photographing the people who have become somewhat of a second family to me, to put a face to the stories and paint the picture of spending time there.

First though, you have to understand the setting:

Located at 5377 Beach Blvd. in Mason, Ohio - our Waffle House is affectionately known as "Kings Waffle" for its proximity to the nearby unincorporated community of Kings Mills ("Mason Waffle" is the other location an exit south on the highway). The store sits down the road from the nearby Beach Waterpark and across the highway from Kings Island Amusement Park - hence why it became the meeting place for friends working at the two separate entertainment centers. Over the years, as we got to know more and more of the other regulars, this became the only Waffle House to go to. Even now, with few still working for either nearby theme park, myself living in Northern Kentucky, it's still the place we choose to go. We come for the people, but the coffee and food aren't bad either.

Over the past few months, I started making portraits of the people I know from Waffle House. The people I've come to know as friends. The people who make the long drive worth it. I wanted to know their "origin stories" - why they came in the first place and why they keep coming back. It's a project I plan to continue, an ongoing story about a group of people sharing the commonality of a diner in the Cincinnati suburbs.

Their photographs and stories come next. For now though, this is the place: