text: I have certain expectations walking into a 24hr IHOP at 10:30 on a Friday night.  Bland, perhaps improperly prepared food, glassy eyed customers, and service wavering between lackadaisical and perfunctory. Maybe someone will speak English. \n\nSo, I was kinda bowled over when the teen and I stopped in after an ASU ballgame and were immediatey greeted by a cheerful young hostess who obviously enjoyed her job. Call me a rube, but I'm a sucker for a kid like that, who strikes up a conversation and makes you feel welcome in what is otherwise, let's face it, a pretty dreary  restaurant. Two stars just for her.\n\nAnd a star for our polite, attentive waiter, Elias, who got everything right the first time, suggested and brought condiments I wouldn't have asked for on my own, brought refills, etc. \n\nThe food? Hey, it's an IHOP. My club sandwich was okay, ordinary, the kid didnt finish his eggs. The onion rings were perfect; hot, incredibly  crunchy and greasy enough to require a napkin. We finished those. \n\nOne thing I didnt like, and the sort of thing I half dread at a discount Friday night hangout,  is the blonde cashier spent her time between sales seated in an adjacent booth, while her hormonally challenged BF rubbed himself against her person. I like foreplay as much as the next guy, and if it was a couple customers, I  wouldnt feel so indignant. But I just loathe employees who cant seem to separate rudimentary work etiquette from their breathless, all-encompassing personal lives. \n\nBut the reason I bothered to writeup this IHOP was to give a shout to our waiter and hostess, neither of whom I know, who both really took pride in their jobs. You dont always see that, late at night in a pancake house,  and I'd come here again just because of them. You should too.