I miss Mexico. It's not that I don't like the endless series of rainy Pacific Northwest days, but there's something to be said for 80 degrees and sun in the middle of winter. The one thing I don't miss about our Mexican resort is the all-you-can-eat buffet. The buffet was fine the first few times, but the endless supply of pasta and deserts got old after awhile. Literally. Additionally, my digestive system quickly grew tired of the truckloads of food I was forcing into it. When people, myself included, are offered an infinite amount of food, the results are disastrous.
Even the most civilized, law abiding citizen will turn into a hunger-ravaged Viking who just raped and pillaged his way to his first meal in a week. He roams up and down the various buffet lines, foaming at the mouth, impatiently waiting in line for a piece of fish or a burrito. When he sees that the pasta he'd craved earlier is almost gone, you see the anger flashing in his eyes. The wise thing would be to let him ahead of you in the ice cream line, but the animal in you wants to go ahead and fill two dishes of chocolate-vanilla swirl.
Things aren't too pleasant in the dining room either. Tables of people are busy ripping and tearing into their meals. Something about the buffet brings out our inner-caveman: everyone eats as if they may not get to again for a very long time. But, they will, probably in just a few hours at this very same buffet.
I've never worked in the restaurant industry, so I don't know what carnage is left after the feasting is over. I imagine there is much waste, and much stored and set out again the next day. I also imagine there is some resentment towards us, as we consume and throw out more food in one meal than many people do in an entire week - or longer. Buffets serve their purpose: on cruise ships, weddings, resorts, Pizza Hut, but I think there's only so much buffet my waistline - and conscience - can take.
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