Golden Corral or Bust

Posted by Danny

Jesse sold DJ on the Golden Corral.  He built it up like it was a trip to Disney World.  And their enthusiasm was infectious!  I, who harbors ill will toward a buffet, even got a little excited.

Our plan was to venture out on Saturday night after our long afternoon of shopping.  Jesse got last-minute tickets to the Hurricanes game (where incidentally he was tossed out for, according to him nothing).  He was visibly shaken that he might not be there when the girls were introduced to this gourmet mecca.  I think he almost turned the free ticket down – tough call for Jesse –

Front row at a sporting event versus the GC buffet

Sports won.

We walked in the front door on Saturday at 6:30 with my father-in-law only to find the lobby spilling over with eager “ready to bingers”.  With Jesse not there to coax me, I quickly decided we should return, with him, at a later date.

Tonight was right.  We all skipped our afternoon snacks and after picking DJ up from dance, headed around the corner to shove as much food in our mouths as humanly possible.

There was no line at 8 pm on a Wednesday night.  We walked right in to the beverage bar.  I sprang for soda, something I only do on special occasions.  THIS was that special day.

I started with a walk through, perusing the vast troughs of food.  Jesse joked that a shuttle bus would come by every ten minutes to take the kids to the far end of the buffet.  Heaven forbid we walk while experiencing a 6,000 calorie feast.

Michelle got a steak that was larger than her head.  She held it, in its entirity, on the end of her fork and chomped on the sides, juice dripping down her arm onto her white shirt.   

There was Chinese, Mexican, American, Italian, and seafood.  Country biscuits, yeast rolls, cornbread, cheese biscuits – and we tried them all.  We threw more food away tonight than we eat at most dinners.  We had soup, we had egg rolls, enchiladas and okra.  You want turkey and dressing or beets?  They’re down past the Indian fare.

When we could take no more, our stomachs jammed, we headed to the desert bar.  All three of the kids returned to the table with eyes lit up like Christmas morning.  Stephanie’s dessert plate was packed with chocolate pie, chocolate covered marshmallows and fruit, and soft serve ice cream sprinkled with M & M’s.  To top it off, at Jesse’s suggestion, a big fat yeast roll.  Nearing the end of the seventh course, I looked at Stephanie, the bread hanging between her lips. 

“Stop eating!” I strongly suggested.

“I just can’t Daddy,” she replied.

I thought we were through.  But the piece de la resistance…pink cotton candy – with no ferris wheel or Carnie in sight.  It was too good to be true.

On the way home, I heard the crumpling of paper.  Glancing in the rear view mirror I could see Michelle munching on saltine crackers she’d pocketed from the soup bar.

“Enough!” I shouted.  “We’ve had enough!  If you put one more thing in your mouth, you’re going to explode.”

“OK Daaad, but why are you driving so fast?”

“No particular reason….I call first dibs on the downstairs bathroom!”

It could be a very long night.

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