A Need For Earmuffs While Strapping On the Feedbag

We left the casino a little earlier this time, since we didn't have to wait for anybody's hand pay to be processed. Since there are no restaurants open at the casino that interest us, during the late morning/early afternoon times we are there, Hick decided we'd eat at the off-brand buffet in a town on our way home. Thevictorians love a buffet!

This time, we knew what foods were available, and loaded up with our favorites. No tasting menu for us! The Pony never shies away from strapping on the feedbag. He got a salad this time, and was thrilled that he knew where to find the butter prior to already eating two rolls.

"I still can't believe they have an actual TROWEL sitting there to dig out the butter!"

 

 

I'm pretty sure The Pony is the person who has most taken advantage of that trowel. Here you can see that he got two trowels worth of butter. To be fair, he DID say he would share all that butter with our table. Hick couldn't reach it, but I dipped my knife into it a couple times.

 

 

The Pony also had a pasta and pulled pork plate. I forgot all about getting a picture of Hick's food, with him sitting across from me this time. Let the record show that Hick did not leave there hungry. I had my favorites, which I spread over two plates, so as not to limit myself, heh, heh!

 

 

I had two chicken thighs. This place has delicious chicken, and the thigh is my favorite fowl appendage. I also had some pulled pork, and a pile of mashed potatoes with white gravy. Of course two rolls, because all The Pony's butter wasn't going to eat itself. The chicken thighs were actually normal size, but the rolls were pretty big. Nice fluffy yeast rolls.

 

I also forgot to get a picture of Hick and The Pony's desserts. I asked The Pony to bring me a little dish of chocolate soft-serve ice cream. It was just as not-good as the last time, when Hick gave me a bite of his. The Pony had some of his favorite sugar cookies with the sprinkles on top. But he said the chocolate chip cookie was not very tasty. He also had a little plastic ramekin thingy with a graham cracker crust, smooth light-colored main part, and whipped topping on top.

"What's that?"

"I don't really know. It's either cheesecake, or Key Lime Pie. The signs were just kind of general, and all of these looked alike." The Pony took a bite, and then said, "You can have the rest if you want."

With about 2 bites of it remaining, I gave it a try. Still don't know what it was, because it had no taste! Hick came back to the table with the same thing. After he ate it, we asked what it was.

"I'm not really sure. It didn't taste like nothin'. Maybe a little bit lemony."

"Oh. You must have got the Key Lime Pie, Dad. And we must have had the cheesecake."

Not that it mattered. When there's no taste, I don't see a need to name it. Anyhoo, we enjoyed our food, but not so much the conversation and antics at the table next to us. No. It did not involve children.

Here's the thing... the table we had last time was taken by some OLD PEOPLE! I know we're old, but they were older. In fact, one of the old ladies said they were there to celebrate her 87th birthday. Though it didn't seem to be very celebratory. 

 

There were 6 of them, and they were quite cantankerous and crotchety and condescending and sarcastic. The best-behaved was not old at all, but an early 30s grandson of the least offensive of the crew, who seemed to be somewhere on the spectrum. She said he helped her out every day, and had made her a pineapple upside down cake, so he was getting rewarded with a meal at the buffet with them.

Anyhoo... we were sitting at the table next to them, and couldn't help overhearing the conversation, even though we wished we could!

The old man was talking about his dog, and how much he loved it and treated it like a member of the family. And Birthday Girl announced, "I hate dogs." What a Debbie Downer!

"When I was a kid, I had four brothers. They were always picking on me. We had dogs, and they'd get ticks. Those great big white ticks. My brothers would smash them, and smear the blood around the doorknobs. So I hate dogs."

Such an appetizing conversation at mealtime! Weirdo talk. Just one more service Val provides for her readers.