Chicken-fried circle of hell

I love my grandpa.

He's a WWII hero and truly a great man.

Dad called me on Veterans Day Eve to ask if I wanted to go to dinner with them and Grandma and Grandpa the next evening.

Me: Sure, where are we going?

[Insert theme music from Jaws]

Dad: It's your Grandpa's choice.

Me: Ok, so where?

[Music swells]

Dad: You know where.

Sigh. I did know. Too bad I'd already said yes...

As much as Grandma loves McDonald's, Grandpa loves the Old Country Buffet.

I loathe the Boo-Fay. First of all, the world OLD is already in the name, which gives you a clue about the clientele.

The nickname I've given the place will give you another hint: The Shovel. Why? Because people shovel massive amounts of food on their plates. And then they shovel it down their gullets. And then they repeat the transaction. This is a place with a lot of elastic waistbands lumbering around.


It's a frickin' cattle call in there. Everybody grazing around, elbowing people out of the way in an effort to get to flavorless, sub-par food. Starch-a-palooza. And NOBODY MOVES. They also let their kids run around like maniacs (because they've, of course, gone for dessert first, so they're all hyped up on sugar).

Lemme run down a list of just a few of the things I encountered on my night at The Shovel.

• A woman in a rabbit-fur coat.
• A soft taco that was so not soft that it CRACKED when I went to fold it in half. Yum. After that, I was too scared to try the hard tacos and ditched the Mexican food idea entirely.
• A child, accompanied by his dad, no less, who had an entire plateful of French fries. No veggies. No protein. Just fries. Nutritious! (Meanwhile, after the Taco Incident, I decided to play it safe with a plate of vegetables. Grandma didn't think that was a good meal for me. How is a plate of vegetables a bad choice for a meal??? I give up.)
• Actual RAGE that there was no pie available at the exact moment when one fella wanted it. Employees were in the process of going to get more pie, but it was too damn late! 
• And, my favorite.... I. Saw. ASSCRACK at the boo-fay. 

Buh-bye appetite.

Like I said, I love my grandpa.

And now that you know what I'm willing to undergo on a Friday night for him, I think you know just how much I mean that.