Fatten 'Em Up

Fatten ‘Em Up

I giant balloon with GRAND OPENING on the front sat atop the restaurant.  Me, along with countless others, were drawn to that balloon.  It was calling us.  Promising to satiate our hungers ten times over.  I stared up at it as I walked into the small restaurant lobby. We were  herded like a cattle through a long and winding line.  Dozens of hungry, sweaty cows thankful to escape the blazing sun were packed single-file.  My stomach grumbled as I neared the register.  Before I could get through the turnstile and into the corral of food on the other side, I had to pay.  Just beyond the gates I could see piles of fried chicken.  Green bean casserole steamed underneath blinding lights.  And way off in the distance I could just make out soft serve ice cream.  The air smelled of burnt meat and cleaning materials.  

A young cashier greeted me with a cheerful smile and asked what kind of drink I wanted.  I found it strange that an all-you-can-eat buffet didn’t have the soda fountains out in the open.  Instead, my drinks were served to me by a sort-of waitress.  

I smiled at the cashier, “I’ll have a Diet...Coke.”  I stumbled over the word “diet” and it fell out of my mouth in a jumbled mess.  There’s something just not right about drinking a Diet Coke at a buffet.  

She smiled back at me and handed me the receipt.  Yes, I just ordered a Diet Coke.  No, I don’t think that it’s going to counterbalance the sickening amount of food I’m going to eat.  I like the taste, okay?

An older lady whisked me through the turnstile and guided me to my table.  I glanced around at what other people were eating, silently judging them as I passed.  You have a giant pile of food on that plate, and two others only half eaten sitting on either side of you.  Shame on you sir for being so wasteful.  Chicken and mushrooms?  Madame, I must say, how can you stomach such garbage?

The waitress pointed to my table.  I thanked her and darted towards the islands of food.  The plates were stacked in the center.  I grabbed one and made my way past each and every dish.  On one end pepperoni pizza and spaghetti sat waiting to be eaten.  A few yards further I came across the Chinese food portion of the buffet.  Lo mein and orange chicken were piled high.  Then the regular fare of mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese.  

First things first, I needed a salad.  I had to be sensible, and a salad with three boiled-eggs, bacon bits, shredded cheese, croutons, drowned in ranch dressing was the only sensible thing to eat.  After eating healthy, It was time for my second trip.  Already I was feeling full, but it was all-you-can-eat and damnit I was going to get my money’s worth.  A few drumsticks and steaks later and it was time for my third.  At this point my mind was swirling from all the grease.  My money’s worth played on a constant loop in my head.  

Somewhere during my fourth or fifth trip,  with options running low, I came across some sort of brownish-yellow mush.  The sign above the dish read “Chicken and Green Bean Casserole”.  Now, had I been anywhere else I might have stopped myself.  I might have considered the hypocrite I would have been if I ate it.  But i was in Golden Corral.  So I did what any American would do and filled my plate with the stuff.  Was I hungry?  Was this being completely wasteful?  Was I only taking this fourth or fifth plate to get my money’s worth?  Those are questions that I failed to ask myself that day.  

A few hours later, when I could stomach no more, I slowly rose from my table and headed for the doors.  I approached the front of the lobby and tried to make my way back through the turnstile.  

“Sir, sir you can’t go through those,” The young cashier said with urgency.

“What do you mean?”  My head was swirling.  My stomach bulged and I found it hard to think.

“That’s where you came in.  You have to head through those doors.  Those doors are the exit.”  She pointed to the other end of the lobby.

I waved at her and turned around.  I stopped and looked around at the hundreds of others stuffing their faces.  Something felt wrong.  Probably some bad chicken.  I blinked twice and headed for the exit.