I need a nap.

Admittedly, last night’s beginning of tech week was probably the shortest I’ve had in recent memory, but we didn’t end up getting home until 8:45.  Why?  Because we endured the sixth level of Hell, also known as Cracker Barrel.

Now, don’t misunderstand: I am a slave to the southern home cookin’ and the plethora of kitchsy items available in the lobby.  But Bryan and I have some sort of magical power — our Heroes power, if you will — that causes the world to fall around us every time we walk in.

I kid you not, before last night, we had NEVER been to a Cracker Barrel where a tray of food was not dumped on someone within an arm’s distance of us.  We have NEVER dined there without having a table next to us in some way demand a free meal from the manager.  We have never been able to have a peaceful, drama-free meal there.

Which, of course, is why we go.

Seriously, it is spooky.  We have some magical shield around us that prevents us from being the source of strife, but I wonder how long our luck will hold out.  Last night, they were out of macaroni and cheese.. which, I believe, is a sign of the coming Cracker Barrel apocolypse.

And even though we got there right at seven, we didn’t leave until 8:40.  Which is a crazy long time to wait for country-fried steak and biscuits. (It was totally worth it, though.)

Am I the only one that this happens to?  Please tell me that everyone of you reading has at least one restaurant that you can’t go to without something terrible happen.

Because if not.. Bryan, we are totally Heroes.