I have come to the conclusion that Denny’s is not a restaurant but in fact an emotion. You don’t go to Denny’s, you become Denny’s—you FEEL Denny’s.
Funny you should mention that, because we just came to the very same conclusion. But about you. Hirokohana isn’t a username. It’s an emotion. We actually already started throwing it around the diner. What is Hirokohana? Well, to us, it’s that amazing nothing-can-rain-on-my-parade feeling you get when you look at the long list of awesome people following you on Tumblr. It’s the warm fuzziness that you feel in your gut after a delicious Denny’s meal. It’s a child’s laughter. It’s a field of endless roses. It’s watching a sunset with someone you love. So, how are we feeling today? Pretty Hirokohana.
Who, me? Well, where is here? Let’s see… I reckon I’m much older than you are, kid. Yawp, reckon I’m much older than many of the stars up on that there flag. It’s been a long, miserable life but heck, I ain’t complainin’. But I’ll tell you sumthin: you give your life to a lonely passion, you’re gonna slip far away into it. I started soup racin’ the local yokels back in aught-six. A prodigy, they’d say. He’s got the gift, others murmured. Wasn’t nothin’ to it, I was thinkin’. I just sipped. Little tiny sips, zippin back and forth like a lizard on a hot rock, while the other stone-tongues tried eatin’ the heat, taking huge gulps and praying for the best. I’d be lyin’ if I told you I didn’t win each and every single race for two years. But like I said, it gets to bein’ a lonely climb to the top. Suddenly you’re goin’ town to town, searchin’ new diners to stake your claim over, keepin’ the young soupers in they’s places, travelin’, ramblin’. You start seein’ the same faces, keep comin’ back to the same diners and watch them morph over the years. Remodels, relocations, beautification projects, disaster. Everything grows, everything changes. Except the man in the mirror. The man with the fastest sip in the west. And he’s not lookin’ too good, and he doesn’t feel no different. Aw heck though, who’s got time for thinkin’ like that? Can’t dwell on the matter. There’s another diner to get on to. Another slick young punk who thinks he can guzzle soup faster than I can. That’s just my life. I’m the Sipper. Anyway, short answer is, no kid, I don’t work here.
This one goes out to that crumb from the Denny’s meal you recently enjoyed. The one that clung to your shoelace. You first noticed it as you were getting back into your car. You violently shook your foot, but that little guy didn’t budge. No way! He stared back at you and proudly shouted, “No, SIR! I will NOT let you forget that easily! You had fun back in there, man! For once you weren’t thinking about work, or school, or life… You were just existing. You were living bite to bite. Moment to moment. Don’t toss me away like common trash. Bread for the birds? I’m more than that! I’m a reminder that there is happiness in this world. That there is good! I AM-” Then you finally shake your leg hard enough and send that sucker flying. Good thing. He was ruining your fresh new kicks.