Today marks the day that I have decided never to step foot
in an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant again.
You may think that it had to do with the particular restaurant I went
to. On the contrary, the new restaurant
looked like a beautifully adorned grand banquet hall with wall to wall
sumptuous entrees from sushi and dim sum to steak and crab legs. The
patrons however were a little less than remarkable. One tiny elderly lady joined me in the Brazilian
barbecue line where I waited patiently for one of the attendants. She looked at me and eagerly pointed to the
small sausages. I nodded and called to
one of the chefs to assist us and ordered a slice of top sirloin for myself. She curtly informed me that typically the
person who is waiting in line first should be served first. Taken aback, I kindly informed her that I was
waiting in line first but she denied it and indignantly turned her attention
back to the meat attendant. Later at the
dessert line, I opened the small glass sliding door where more than a dozen
types of tiny delectable desserts stood wait.
As I carefully chose my dessert and was removing it from the shelf, a
woman opened the glass sliding door from the opposite end, bumping my wrist,
causing my miniature mocha mousse cake to go kersplat on the counter.
With a huff, she stomped over to the other side of me, impatiently
waiting as I reached for a new cake. A
few seconds later, an oversized woman towered over me in a different line as I
used the small thongs to take a couple more items. She impatiently snatched the thongs as soon
as I was done with them. Was I missing
something here? This was an
all-you-can-eat buffet where they served food all day. There was no impending cut-off time in which
the restaurant would close the buffet lines or a time limit on how long you
could sit in your table. Why were people
so strangely impatient?
As I looked around, I saw people dodging to and fro with
their plates and a determined look on their faces as they made a bee line for
the food. They sat and inhaled their
mound of food only to rush back to the buffet line two or three more times for
more fodder. Close by were glassy-eyed
waiters who stood and watched all the guests gorge themselves silly and would
step in occasionally to ask, ‘Are you done with your plate ma’am?’ Some guests were overweight, some were
downright obese, a few had terrible acne and still others just had an
ill-favored look about them is all. I
had a sickening feeling in my gut, and I don’t think it was from the
sashimi. A feeling of disgust crept up
on me as I took in this alien all-you-can-eat buffet culture. There is something inherently wrong with a
system that asks you to come and shovel as much food as you want in one sitting
for twenty bucks. Perhaps people are
caught up in the idea of getting their money’s worth and then some. But if you look at it in another way, you are
paying for a three-pound weight gain, indigestion and a lower self-esteem for
eating like a bear going into hibernation.
It just doesn’t seem to be all that worth it.
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