Known as ‘twin’ Waffle Houses, they straddle I-75 and divide Byron. Which do locals prefer?

It’s 7 o’clock on a Thursday morning, and the restaurant is already noisy. Hashbrowns and onions hiss on the griddle, forks scrape against plates, and murmurs of conversation rise over the funk music drifting through the speakers.

Tae Nash and Theo Hampton — a waitress and a grill operator — poke fun at each other behind the counter as they pass plates of food between them. Herman Floyd and Larry Wilcox, a pair of regulars who come in each morning, occupy their usual booth beneath a window overlooking State Route 49.

Less than a half a mile away, a similar scene unfolds. Taylor Pearson, one of the waitresses, chats up regulars like old friends as she refills their coffee. A line of waffles, bacon and eggs grows along the lip of the grill as regulars and passersby alike crowd the barstools and booths in time for breakfast.

The identical scenes come from a pair of Waffle Houses that straddle I-75 in Byron. They’re known as the twin Waffle Houses. While they may share the same morning rush and smothered and covered menu, for many locals the similarities end there. The two share a rivalry that stretches back years and marks a hotly-contested issue between locals.

So which is better?

If someone searches “Waffle House” in the Peach County Discussion Page Facebook group — Peach County is where Byron and its twin Waffle Houses are located — they’ll find a post from November 2024 with more than 80 comments arguing which one is better.

“One is for the truckers getting off the highway. The other is for locals,” commented Sandi Boulware-Taylor, siding with the southbound Waffle House that sits further from the interstate.

“One cooks better than the other,” Rosia Maria Hagan wrote under the post. She was talking about the northbound Waffle House.

The comments continue, citing everything from the texture of the hashbrowns to the comfort of the seats for why one is better than the other, but feelings burn brightest among the restaurants’ regulars and workers.

Jackson Meeks, a 19-year-old who frequents the southbound Waffle House between trips to the gym and his classes at the local technical college, praised his chosen Waffle House as he cut through a pile of hashbrowns and ketchup.

“This is more like everybody’s local,” Meeks said. “As soon as you get off the highway, everybody sees that one. This is more like the local Waffle House, and that one (referring to the other Waffle House) is you’re off the interstate.”

Floyd and Wilcox disagreed. They first came to the northbound Waffle House with a few friends last year and haven’t left their usual booth since. Now known as “Geezer Corner” by the employees, it sees a rotating cast of friends — several of whom are also named Larry, according to Wilcox — who come in pickup trucks and jeans each morning to chat over coffee and waffles.

One week, the group was forced to migrate to the southbound Waffle House after the northbound one closed early due to a plumbing issue.

“They don’t know me here like they do over there,” Wilcox said as he sank down into a booth at the back of the restaurant.

Even the workers have their preference. Because the Waffle Houses are next to each other, the employees sometimes move between them to fill holes in staffing or assist during rushes.

At the southbound Waffle House, the workers seem absorbed by their work. Pearson does most of the talking, her wide glasses and hot pink camo Waffle House hat catching people’s eyes as soon as they step through the door.

“Nobody works together over there,” Nash said.

At the northbound Waffle House, the customers want to chat as much as they want their coffee refilled and their dishes cleared. The servers tease Floyd and Wilcox, who take it in stride.

“They’re just really all over the place,” Pearson said.

While the rivalry might be unique, the idea of two Waffle Houses next to each other isn’t, said district manager Nylia Hardy, who oversees both stores. Waffle House corporate manages all stores, so when an area has high demand they open two stores next to each other.

Waffle House has experimented with opening a single, large store instead of twin restaurants, but found that it slows down the kitchen and disappoints customers, who often come for the intimate, familiar atmosphere.

A local tradition

While they may share a rivalry, going between the two Waffle Houses makes it clear they’re rooted in their community in a way that’s hard to find, particularly for a chain. The employees stick around for the community, and both Waffle Houses represent a linchpin in their customers’ lives.

Rick Mertens works in a body shop next door. A creature of habit, he wears the same blue flannel and jeans a couple times a week and visits the southbound Waffle House three times a day during the week. For him, it’s both a spot for food and a place to socialize.

When the workers at the southbound Waffle House spot Mertens ambling across the parking lot, Pearson throws his usual on the grill. After each meal, Mertens steps out to smoke a cigarette before returning to the maze of garages and mountains of car parts where he spends his days.

Similarly, at the northbound Waffle House, Nash announces regulars’ arrival as soon as she spots them outside from her station at the cash register. Hampton starts their food while Autumn Gunter, a server who also works the morning shift, gets ready to greet them with a diner mug brimming with coffee.

Time is less dependent on a clock and instead informed by who walks through the door and their easy rapport with the staff. Pearson said if the staff notices a regular isn’t at the restaurant at their usual time, they call to check in.

“Mr. Taylor is back,” Nash calls to the staff around 9 a.m. one chilly January morning, as if taking a roll. She returns to checking someone out as the grill sizzles behind her.

Sunbeam and Coca-Cola — Southern staples with vintage logos — have filled the restaurant’s shelves for decades. Customers sit along an L-shaped counter surrounded by the globe-shaped lights that illuminate just about every Waffle House in America as they chat with workers about their kids and their jobs.

“You doing okay?” Pearson asks Mertens one morning after he takes his seat. He answers in the affirmative, but she pauses and eyes him carefully. For her, it’s a real check-in, not just an empty greeting. “You’re not lying to me, are you?” she insists.

In these two Waffle Houses, not even the workers are passing fads.

Pearson said her mother worked at Waffle House before she did. She’s been at the southbound Waffle House for about three years now, and has a bevy of pins adorning her name tag to show for it.

Others are really in it for the long haul. Pam Campbell and Pat Miles, known among workers and regulars as “the twins,” have worked at Waffle House since the 1970s.

The pair grew up in neighboring Houston County and when a new Waffle House opened in Perry in 1973, when they were 18, Campbell got a job as a waitress.

Meanwhile, Miles had just gotten married and was off to Florida, but when she got divorced several months later, she came home to Campbell. Despite Miles not having any prior experience as a waitress, Campbell helped her secure a job at the same Waffle House on Friday nights.

They’ve bounced around the country since then, including living in Michigan and Arkansas, with most of their jobs being various positions as Waffle House.

“This job lets you travel,” Miles jokes. “Like being in the service.”

Like Pearson, Waffle House runs in the twins’ family. Campbell’s ex-husband is featured in one of the black and white stock photos that decorate Waffle Houses across America, and Nash, her granddaughter, took a job at Waffle House after visiting Campbell at the store for her birthday.

As they hurried around the kitchen together one Sunday morning, the twins said they don’t plan on ever being apart.

“We came in together, we’ll go out together,” Miles said. Nash interrupts from down the counter.

“You need to,” she said, and pointed to Campbell. “I promised her!”

A timeless feud

As 10 a.m. comes and goes one morning, the regulars file out and the Waffle Houses slow.

At the northbound Waffle House, Nash gives Wilcox a to-go bag as he heads out the door — a BLT sandwich on cinnamon raisin bread. Next door, Pearson takes a break to have her breakfast as she racks her brain as to when the rivalry began.

The short answer is that no one seems entirely sure. Pearson said the southbound Waffle House was built to replace an older Waffle House that sat on the same lot. However, workers and locals name different years for when that happened, ranging anytime from the early 1980s to the mid-1990s. The northbound Waffle House was built in the 2000s to help accommodate traffic off I-75.

The competition between the two restaurants seems to have grown organically from there. Regulars chose their preferred Waffle House for a range of reasons, and the employees settled into their rituals alongside them.

“It just kind of depends on the person,” said Gunter, who works in the northbound Waffle House. “A lot of people have a server they like at one or the other.”

Just after lunch, the morning shift ends and the stores’ staff rotate. Another round of regulars follows to take their seats and debate which is better, over heaps of hash browns and eggs. It will all reset in the morning, as sure as clockwork and the daily routines of a small town.

This story was originally published February 11, 2025 at 6:00 AM.