Not embarrassing or thrilling, but way back when I still ate meat, I’m pretty sure Waffle House tried to kill me with a bad batch of Bert’s chili. At least, that was the featured odor/flavor in all my bodily effluvium (which was copious!) in the several succeeding days. I didn’t die but I do remember wishing I was dead. The experience turned me into a Waffle House skeptic and shortly thereafter, a vegetarian.
Coincidentally watched The Man Who Would Be King for the first time last night. 😆
Still trying to decide if Huston (or Kipling for that matter) intended the anti-colonialism or if that’s just my reading.