When the doors open at 8:30 combat begins. Little did I know before my first breakfast buffet that I would have to evade sharp elbows when making the effort to position myself in close proximity to the platter of fried eggs. Nor did I realize the zeal for which guests here savor raw cucumbers and tomatoes for breakfast. I didn't even want these vegetables when I made the mistake of blocking the plate that housed them, causing a Russian octogenarian to shove her way in front of me to ladel a heaping scoopful onto her plate. If only I had the linguistic skill to tell her I had no use for cucumbers for breakfast: I was simply waiting patiently for the scuffle around the pancake platter to subside.
To its credit, The Breakfast Buffet is an egalitarian, pluralistic sport. All ages, genders, orientations, and nationalities join in with equal enthusiasm. Why just this morning a five-year-old girl stepped on my foot so that she could maneuver herself in front of me for better access to the Kyrgyz dumplings. But don't feel too sorry for me, I have devised a strategy or two of my own. I have come to realize that there is one item on the buffet nobody wants: the braised cabbage. Although, I don't really enjoy cabbage for breakfast either, I have a plate each morning simply because it is the best way to avoid physical contact and injury. Even better though, I have found that while standing unimpeded in front of the braised cabbage, I can actually extended my arms over the buffet table and scoop up all the hard boiled eggs and croissants my heart desires.
If the next time you see me, I appear a little more buffed and in a more impressive fighting trim, no need to ask me if I've been working out. You'll know I've been hardened and toughened up at the breakfast buffet.
If the next time you see me, I appear a little more buffed and in a more impressive fighting trim, no need to ask me if I've been working out. You'll know I've been hardened and toughened up at the breakfast buffet.
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