Buffet the Campfire Slayer
Magical places drenched in toddler drool and a constant overhead glow. Any staff you see are mostly cleaning rather than serving, giving the impression that they’re always in the middle of closing for the night.
Any time you look up from your food and over the top of the adjacent booth, steel yourself:
These places long ago became the domain of staring babies.
You will feel oddly convicted. That look always seems to demand an answer, and when you realize you can’t provide one, you will feel worried and strange. Defenseless.
Anyway, shake it off and get in there. Keep in mind those tricks any halfway decent brother/sister pair works out by the time they turn 5 or 6:
When navigating the maze of bright glass food stalls (that’s what they’re called), remember to keep your wits about you. What I mean by that is:
Do not use the dessert bowls for dessert. Any buffet-goer worth their knox blox cubes knows that the soup bowls are the only way to go. The dessert dishes are shallow, and often very warm. They don’t hold much ice cream, and what they do hold will melt too soon. The soup bowls are deep and cold, like the river that runs through a woman’s heart.
Hotels and mini-golf courses are two other forgotten realms, for anyone who is between their early youth and having children of their own. Maybe I’ll write on one of those soon.
