In The Castle of “Ahhhhgghhhhh!”

Few things are more disgusting to me than All-You-Can-Eat-Buffets.  Whenever I see one, images are conjured up in my mind of picnic food laying unattended in the sun with flies, ants, and centipedes having their way with it as an unattended child, hands gleaming with the grease of an earlier food encounter, shovels steaming mayonnaise into its mouth.

Last night I ruined a personal record in avoiding buffets when I attended “Golden Corral” with my family in the celebration of my grandmother’s 86th birthday.  It took only five minutes for me to remember what made me avoid them in the first place.

I’ll ignore the fact that the floor was sticky, the chairs were sticky, the tables were sticky, the walls were sticky, the employees appeared to be sticky, and after 10 minutes somehow my hands were sticky.

I’ll ignore how the line to the cashier resembled the weave of those steel railings which lead to a ride at an amusement park.

“ALL YOU CAN EAT! $9.99” a sign screeched in bright red lettering at anyone in the foyer of the restaurant. The sign only said All you CAN eat! Not ‘All you should eat’ or ‘All that is healthy to eat’ or ‘All we’ll allow you to eat.’ Noooo, it was all you CAN eat. If you’re able to eat it, you’re allowed to eat it, because you should and it’s healthy! Basically I think they were saying that most people might want to chew their food but if you are in that minority of the population that considers chewing an affront to common social standards, by all means, gulp your food the way a thirsty person gulps refreshing water.

Ah-choo! *sniff*

A few years ago I came to the independent conclusion that anything which needs a so-called “Sneeze shield” to protect it isn’t going to find its way into my mouth. You know what a sneeze shield is. It’s the big slanted piece of glass you stare through and see the food on the other side. An awkward stooping at the knees and over-extended reach of the arm is required to attain food. Sneeze shield? Oh, I get it. The food goes UNDER it…to protect it from what else but a sneeze! I guess a sneeze shield in and of itself doesn’t bother me as much as the ideology behind the reason for their invention. Some hundreds of years ago, there was probably a slew of unshielded buffets. Then some health inspector/ doctor type said to himself “I wonder if some kind of covering over the community food would help to stem this outbreak of whooping cough!” And lo! The sneeze shield was born. Of course the earliest sneeze shields were made either of wood or leaves. But at least they became invented.

“Don’t worry bro, our food is good. We’ve got brand-new sneeze shields.”

“Ooh, they’re so clean! So shiny! Whoops, except for this one…looks like someone sneezed on it. Ah well, I don’t think it hit the lettuce… although I wouldn’t try any croutons until they replace that batch.”

“Oh no prob. Here, let me Windex that right up (Lots of spritzing over the food).

Ugh. Buffets remind me of a community food trough. Hey! Free microbes!

Yummo.

My parents pointed out the sign advertising shrimp. Expecting, I guess, that I would share in their awe of the availability of such a delectable dish at a buffet! My only response was a disparaging look and the admonition that “I don’t like seafood.”

Shrimp? SHRIMP? If those things lived on land, we’d buy sprays and traps to keep them off our lawns and out of our houses! Same with crab! “Oh darn,” I’d say to my wife, “Time to go to the hardware store and get some good strong crab traps.” The horror of the texture alone should be enough to dissuade even the most hearty proponent. Then factor in the taste and you’ve got a recipe for something that, if it took human form, would resemble the monster Grendel. And I’m no Beowulf.

I had frog legs once. Know what they tasted like? A swamp. A big, green, algae-infested swamp with mosquitoes and malaria and Kermit the Frog singing “The Rainbow Connection” on a moldy old tree stump. Shrimp, crab, frog legs: they all taste like a swamp! Maybe occasionally you’ll hit one that tastes like licking the underside of an old John-Deere riding lawnmower. Consider yourself lucky. I hate the texture, the taste, the look, the idea. I don’t eat things that a. have feelers or b. start off as a tadpole. Sorry. Whoever the guy was that first said “Frog legs? Sure, they taste just like chicken” was a mental. Apparently someone out there was raising chickens in swamps to make sure they absorbed all that natural swampy goodness.

See? SEE? SEE THE MALARIA!?

Everbody Just Party Down

I can see it all now. Some mook trying to buy a house has to have it inspected. The inspector comes out, inspects the house and in a somber tone manages to whisper through his tears to the future homeowner, “I’m sorry! You’ve got….shrimp.” “NOOOOO,” Screams the schmuck, “WHY ME?!” On land there would be no stopping them. Even the most potent “Shrimp-Away-Spray” would only be a temporary solution until they ate right through the timbers and joists that hold up your WHOLE HOUSE.

Light Bulb!

Ooh, Ideaaa! Know how some whales strain krill through their baleen and eat millions in a single salty gulp? Let’s serve krill at restaurants! They’re really just teensy tiny shrimp anyway. They could be like a shrimp flavored coffee. Mmmmmmmm… Hot Krill. Just like Mom used to strain through her baleen.

 

My Personal Baleen

 +

Their Krill

 =

The Perfect Storm.