Okay. So since I'm a inner fat kid at heart, I'm sure all you other inner and hell for that matter outer fat kids can testify something with me. Chinese buffets fucking rock. The options, the fanfare, the galore, the gluttony. All of it. I'm down for the cause. A lot of people will argue that too many chinese places in one area is grounds for stupid. I, however, cannot and will not jump on that hater bandwagon. In fact, I think there are too little of a Chinese Buffet in my great metropolis in Hattiesburg. And also others will go against buffets altogether. And I can't say I blame them. I mean on a serious tip, we're all like cattle herding up to our troughs of low mein, fried rice, and seafood cheesy biscuits (yes, they do exist.) And who knows how long the food has been out there under those heat lamps. But I can honestly say I don't give a shit, and herd my little self all up in aforementioned food items; cheesy seafood biscuits included (Guys, they're fucking delicious.)
So, let me paint you a little picture. My fiance Nelson came into some unexpected money. Now don't trip, he's not a drug dealer, and no he didn't start stealing anything and sell it on Ebay. Just an unexpected paycheck that he wasn't sure he would be getting in the first place. I only wish I could be so lucky. Fucker.
So, yes. Money. Kind of a lot of it too. Well me being jobless (that's another story altogether) and in a shady grey area as far as finances are concerned, the grey area being somebody better come up off some damn money, I naturally told Nelson that we should spend the money as soon as he got it. I know. I'm totally pulling a Nora from Ibsen's "Doll House" and being a little spendthrift. It's not my fault. Who doesn't love money or food for that matter? The original plan was for him to go out and get us some chicken wings (yeah, we're classy like that.) I thought we would try a nice wing place a block up from our apartment, sit down, get dirty, maybe have a few buckets of ranch on my face. You know, the works.
Then I thought..No wait, there's something better and bigger out there for us. Something the universe could really give to us and we could capitalize on ten fold. Yes? YES! By God I've got it! We are going to the China Buffet and Sushi Bar! Actually, it was Nelson's idea. But I like to exaggerate so we'll just go with the fervor and dramatics on my end. I called the aforementioned establishment to ask hours of operation and dinner prices. They were very accommodating, and I found out that for the price of 10.99 each and till the hour of 10 o'clock p.m, that indeed the China Buffet restaurant would be a dirty nasty dinner bitch whenever we wanted. Excited? Who wouldn't be?!
I told Nelson to put on his fat pants and we would be having dinner at 5:30. We're getting older these days, so I like to keep it in time check with the senior citizens. Before we left, I brought out my murse, and started filling it with ziplock bags. Nelson looks at me with this inquisitive look on his face a.k.a "What the fuck are you doing?" To which I reply. "Leftovers." He gives me the reassuring eye of "Oh yes, how could I forget? My boyfriend who likes to steal shit at buffets. I win in the boyfriend dept." Don't act like not one of your grandma's did it. I will not have judgement.
So, it's grub time. I'm salivating over the choices. Shit, it's been so long since I went to a buffet. Or hell out to dinner for that matter. So with my man bag of plastic bags, my shades to block out the death star, and with an equally hungry boyfriend we departed to the China Buffet and Sushi Bar. The place where we would liberate so much god damn food that even the fattest of American that live in this godforsaken state would be a little on edge when meeting us.
And boy did we liberate. We were up in that buffet like those soldiers in Normandy. No care in the world. No angst. Just pure unabashed fat kids waiting at every fried donut, every fried shrimp, and every sushi roll that had spicy mayo on it. Seriously, the spicy mayo is the shit. Can I make that? Our less then enthusiastic waiter filled our glasses consistently. I don't judge because he wasn't chipper. I wasn't down on making friendships with the waiter in the first place. Minimal contact, fill those glasses high and make sure my crab legs don't crack in your face when I'm ravaging them. Other then that, we're all gravy. Mhhmm. Gravy! Anyways, the time had come where Nelson and I had sufficiently blocked an artery or two, and I decided that this would be the most opportune time to get my post show dinner on.
I went back to the buffet considering my post digestive self. Sesame chicken? Low Mein? The cheesy seafood biscuits that I took out like it was going to be my last meal? Oh, the options. I filled my plate with ziplock friendly items. Cheese wontons, eggrolls, etc. I sat down at my table thinking I could really pull a fast one on this whole thing they call buffet. Little did they know the limited buffet would be coming home with me. My little mini china buffet and sushi bar at the casa de homo. But as I'm getting ready to shove the first of my cheese wontons in my murse the waiter walks by. I immediately looked at Nelson whose view was clear of the aisle that said waiter would be walking up and down. I looked at him like an idiot. Girl, you have a job to do while I'm doing mine. He responds like he never interviewed for this position. His bad. So here I am looking like a fool shoving cheese wontons in my bag like I have no shame and then suddenly I clammed up. I got scared. I decided to take a line from Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City. "I got to thinking of choices..." Yes, indeed Carrie. I too just got to thinking about choices. How gangster is it to be arrested or asked to leave the place I've loved long time because of some fucking cheese wontons. I was trippin' hardcore and realized I couldn't do this. I couldn't have some one looking down on me asking "Sir, what are you doing?" All for some cheese wontons. Love em' like I do, I wasn't gonna go out like this. If anything I want to be remembered for it's liberating small asian children from sweatshops, not trying to pull a fast one on the Asian buffet market. So, I folded. Nelson and I laughed at my hysterical attempts and I eventually just ate the rest of my wontons. Victory was not mine, but it wasn't theirs either. So I guess we both won. In a way. I still walked out with at least one cheese wonton. I split it with Nelson even though he didn't do his job correctly. I love him that much. Can you believe it?
Then Nelson and I rolled ourselves out of the restaurant. Yes, literally. Our inner fat selves were stuffed so hard that we were in literal pain walking out of there. I remember driving home and saying I probably look as attractive as Sally Struthers during Thanksgiving. Nelson mentioned a nap, and it was as if we hit the fucking lotto. Nothing sounded so good. So right. And you know my motto, if it feels right..don't fight it.
So other than the humiliation of being the asshole taken in for stealing chinese food, I would say we had an enjoyable time. I really ought to hit up bingo to learn those buffet stealing tricks from those old ladies. You know those bitches have it to a science.
