Sunny Side Up

This morning I was looking for adventure, but first I needed to fill my tank.

Happiness is a full tank.

That’s a saying from Way of the Peaceful Warrior.  It’s a book my brother bought for me.  It’s sort of a metaphysical fantasy about being at peace with yourself and the universe.

This college athlete, the author, walking in the middle of the night meets a gas station attendant who seems to have supernatural powers, who helps him heal after a terrible accident.

I sure do love my brother.  He’s a fascinating guy.  He’s a professional dancer and he’s had to make his way, basically on his own, and learned a bunch of things about people all over the country.

I’m name dropping: He knows all the cool people on Dancing with the Stars and none of the uncool people.  Ok, I don’t know who he knows… I don’t watch television… Andrew is up for the British version of the show.

Anyway, I went inside Sunny Side Up in Shawnee, Oklahoma to have me some breakfast.

Everyone in there is always very nice.

The place is owned by Mr. Do.  Mr Do does omelette’s and every other kind of breakfast fare, as far as I can see.

This guy is Mr. Do.

Other people work there, of course.

I asked if I could take a picture of Destiny, one of the waitresses, and she said only if I take a picture of her with her coworker.  Done.

The food is good, the prices are fair, and the company is excellent.  Lots of locals eat there.

Last time I was in there I ran into Dr. Marker, the teacher of my Wednesday classes that are helping me so much.  I sort of hoped I’d see him this morning, but no luck.

That’s Destiny on the right and my waitress, Val (?), on the left.

I told Destiny it was her destiny to appear in a photograph on my blog.  I hope when she reads this that she’s not too disturbed by some of the other postings.  Remember, Destiny, I’m a writer, or a weirdo: objects in the mirror are closer than they appear and your mileage may vary.

Mmmm.  French Toast.

I chose their “homemade bread” which is made with cinnamon and ground up raisins, I think. I didn’t ask. I’m sure it’s a secret.

I named this guy, “Grasshopper,” because I failed to ask his name.  He’s so friendly.

To see all the pictures, please visit my Facebook page here.

And no, this wasn’t a paid advertisement.  🙂

After breakfast, I retraced and photographed the path from the homeless shelter where I lived from September into December last year to where I work.  The pictures and some of the story is above, on the Facebook album.

Then, I found myself at the Pott. County Liar’s Club at 10am.

** UPDATE 6/6/A 6:29pm (next evening) WHILE WRITING THE LATEST BLOG POST **

• This dude I respectfully named Grasshopper is… is… dang it!!!  DANG IT!!!
• Mr. Do is not Mr. Do, it’s pronounced Mr. Do, as in Vietnamese Do (“doe”).
• Mr. Doe and Mr. Grasshopper here are from Vietnam.  Mr. Doe has been in the United States for 30 years now.
• I don’t know where the other cook is from.  He appears to be Asian, but I haven’t heard him speak much, so I don’t know from where he harked.  He could be from Harlequin.
• Destiny was my waitress this morning when I went back to get coffee, orange juice, and bacon, while I was waiting for Phoenix to open so I could see Vivian while I was wearing my suit.