What lured me into America's buffet was the promise of butterfly shrimp and prime rib at a fairly reasonable rate. And I wanted to get out of the house and mingle with the herds of America's breeders and other wild life now that the threat of the plague, er the flu, seems to have subsided.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am one cheap motha fucka and this occasion was no different as I braved a Saturday night after work where I hadn't eaten except before going to work at 9:00 a.m. And my cheapness had me bring with me a "free beverage" with the purchase of a buffet coupon. I saved $1.99 on this occasion and paid my entry fee to get a chance to encounter America's finest humans as they circulated around two major hot spots while avoiding the salad bar like it was a contagious and deadly disease.
I decided to wade into the shallow end of the pool because I had spotted some larger life forms near where I wanted to end up - near the carving station where prime rib and turkey was served and near to the fried butterfly shrimp. I migrated from the lesser popular areas to that carving station and this is where I encountered LaWanda Water Buffalo and her offspring, Laquesha Water Buffalo, who were clogging the access to the grilled steak area and had backed up access to the prime rib.
I felt for the young asian male who was manning the grilled steak section as LaWanda and LaQuesha were insistent on a well done fragment of steak. The grill attendant was named Eddie and he must have been well shy of five feet because he seemed so small compared to the chortling and snorting LaWanda and LaQuesha. These two weren't happy with just any old well done fragment of beef flesh - these two insisted on something that you'd expect to find at a place charging north of $40 at a real steak house.
Poor Eddie - he offered them numerous hunks of flesh cooked to near extinction but the Water Buffalos were not having any of that. It was bad enough that they were significant in mass and tonnage, but they were like a coronary plaque blockage around a very busy meat station. Eddie might have been mute for he spoke not a word from his lips but his eyes were impressive in his increasing frustration with the champagne tastes of the two water buffalos. Either from near exhaustion of having been deprived of food for five minutes or having concluded that Eddie was not the LeBrick James of the culinary world, the two water buffalos were soon coming to the conclusion that they better take something from Eddie because he was simply not going to slap a raw steak on the grill just to please them through the entire cooking process. I did hear some grumbling from these two, but they couldn't ignore the looks on the rest of our faces as they held the poor asian man captive for over five minutes.
This is Golden Corral - you get cheap shit and you best be thankful you get any of it - I got my medium steak (or approximately like it should be) from Eddie - I thanked him - something LaWanda and LaQuesha notably failed to do as their black privilege excused them from being understanding and tolerant of others. I then was able to move over to the prime rib which was cut in a near shaving of substance on my plate - I was a bit off put with the unrendered fat that was nearly as white as the plate on which I offered forth. I counted myself lucky that the other meat attendant who was busy checking his phone would serve me since I did not share his significant pigmented skin tone.
I always try to notice the traffic patterns of these buffets when I visit (albeit not as frequently do I visit as earlier in my life). I try not to cut in obvious lines and I certainly avoid having to inconvenience pigmented patrons for fear of being labeled a racist and a white privilege card holder. It is a shame that we must act this way, but we are in the post racial America where everything pink skins do is racist and nothing pigments do could ever be judged so.
The meal was pleasant enough - albeit short on much flavor - but three cautious trips to the buffet to snag another slice or two of unrendered prime rib was enough to fill up this 50 plus year old belly. I found the grilled chicken to be particularly more tasty than either the steak or prime rib and the mexican rice was nice if a bit dirty in its sanchez like coloring. I didn't bother with the salad bar as I can get that at home in my refrigerator - I did partake in some baby carrots (likely old honking large carrots pared down into small peen like blobs; the green beans are a favorite of mine though I was thankful that they did not have the southern adaptation with bacon thrown in for the hell of it. The loose corn fragments were good though I'm sure they came from a big can and I might be able to recycle those fragments later on today.
Overall, I got my $5 per plate worth as I really had an exhausting week at work and did undertake mingling with some of America's least desirable masses of flesh in the process. It was nice to watch the humanity of our world as they raced and flooded the buffet with their coughing and sniveling out of my way. I did notice that people just don't bother to dress up to go out to eat and I had more than my share of instances of counting rolls of fat being contained by overly tight body coverings. When I sensed that this fleshy shrink-wrapping was all too prevalent these days, I returned my gazes upon the automotive magazines that I brought to read - at least I wouldn't want to heave my dinner except at looking at the shit Honduh and Toyoduh are putting on America's roads in their quest to build the ugliest transportation ever conceived.
No comments:
Post a Comment