Unlike most folks who gorge on Thanksgiving and feast on the leftovers thereafter, we had a relatively modest meal with no real leftovers. So how better to balance things off than a weekend of buffets? I sure can't think of anything. Saturday seemed like a great day for the wonders of the Super Seafood Buffet, as Liz was thinking Chinese, and I was thinking of crab legs (I tend to do that often). While the buffet isn't quite as nice looking as the web site (which is oddly slick for what seems to be a family owned restaurant), the selection is very diverse (including real sushi, a Mongolian BBQ no one seems to ever want to take advantage of--I certainly don't wish to be the first, and the aforementioned crab legs). I'm glad they appear to have removed the chicken feat, which tend to make my taste buds sour a bit. Anyway, we got there, were greeted like anxiously awaited VIPs, and began our meal. I loaded up on the first of four plates of crab legs, and I was as happy as a clam (well happier than the clams on the buffet!). After a while I half expected to be approached by ownership with a buy-out offer to get me to leave the crab legs alone, but I started to notice how bad the Muzak was. It was heinous (think instrumental Richard Marx and Jackson 5 numbers), and Liz and I determined that it must have been a form of encouragement to leave, and it worked.
This isn't unprecedented, as I recall Disney World playing a non-stop ever changing rendition of 'It's a Small World' complete with transitions to Hip-Hop, Jazz, Ragtime, and Rae-Gae versions of the annoying diddy. It's far worse than it sounds, and I'm sure there are subliminal messages to buy shit and get the fuck out.
Back to our fine dining encounters, we made a visit to the gourmet pizza shop, also known as Cicis. They not only make a selection of original creations (such as mac n' cheese pizza), they offer it all for $5.75 with all you can drink fountain drinks. Due to some somewhat undesirable types of folks that frequent the establishment, we tend to visit only one location that has proven to be relatively trash-free, but this has led us to become regulars of a sort at this locale. Upon our last visit, one of the employees, who we call Dante (he once proclaimed that he wasn't even supposed to be working that day--and he looks a bit like Brian O'Halloran as well), started to call us out and recall that I always ask for a mac n' cheese pizza, which I don't enjoy, but Liz loves it (kinda odd for a grown up who's not a stoner). He was there again for our most recent encounter, and sure enough he was all buddy-buddy with us. I've learned to be more people friendly, but I'm kinda weirded out by complete strangers who I run into multiple times acting like they know me. I do feel bad, as I kinda imagine he has no real friends, and his mom likely doesn't even talk to him much, as he refuses to move out. I'm hoping he doesn't spring a request that I be his best man or something on me--then again, he doesn't strike me as being the ideal catch for the ladies. Anyway, between Cici's, the Dollar Theater, and a trip to Wal Mart (topped by an evening of COPS), we had the ultimate white trash date. I'm such a good boyfriend.