A couple of years ago, I was visiting my folks out in the MidWest. There are a lot of excellent places to eat in my hometown, but I sometimes like to go to the Waffle House because we don't have them here in the NorthEast. So I took my dad out for breakfast one morning.
At the time there was a bad flu going around, and a couple of people died. In the Waffle House we went to, one of the waitresses' daughters had the flu, and was dying. There was a sign and a collection jar on the counter.
While we were eating, a local news crew came in and interviewed the Waffle House manager about the sad story.
Later that night, my dad and I saw ourselves on TV, in the background.
(Yes, we put money in the jar.)
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