As I was sitting on my couch yesterday with the AC blasting and clamorously eating away at the thickness of the 94 degree air, an old friend who I had not seen in quite some time texted me.
“Ur not down to go to Hometown Buffet tho”
A challenge among friends is sometimes issued with a seemingly harmless front. I call this the “ur not down tactic.”
It was clear that my friend was challenging my masculinity, and I’m not one to back down from a challenge. It was so on.
I called his bluff and went to pick him up. We drove to the closest Hometown Buffet (which was 25 miles away mind you) to prove to each other that we were in fact, down tho.
The food was horrendous and I’m sweating with a case of the chills as I write this now. How could I have allowed this to happen? How could I let them win? Who exactly are they?
As these and other questions ran through my mind, I came to an alarming realization. There must be others….
I ran to my computer, searched for Hometown Buffet on Yelp to try and locate the poor souls who have suffered the same ill-fate as me. I was surprised by what I found.
1. Apparently all you need is a little empathy….
I personally enjoy Kraft Macaroni n’ Cheese, but if Teresa’s grandson doesn’t approve, and the prime rib reminds her of a winter night in the high desert, maybe Hometown Buffet (which I will henceforth refer to as “HB”) needs to try and be more empathetic.
2. This place USED to have class
I feel you Todd, I feel you. We need to find the other managers ASAP because HB is running out of it’s most valuable asset: class. What is class? Class is when you pay for your goddam drink; class is when the desserts are so full of sugar that children crash immediately and have no energy to run around and disturb Todd and I while we’re enjoying a night on the town. More on Todd later….
2. It’s not the same
Another patron who yearns for the HB of yesteryear, when the chix were as moist as a fresh chocolate brownie in Thailand. WHERE IS THE OTHER MANAGER PLZ HELP.
3. The great flood of Saturday night
If the quality of the food that HB serves is any indication as to what the resulting excrement will be after, we all know this is nothing less than a tragedy. Serving dry chicken tenders and stale chips is one thing, but serving it to your customers while they float amidst a sea of shit that you try and pass off as…“not shit,” well now you have crossed a line HB. I’m sure the other managers would never let this happen.
4. Coupon prejudice
That’s just mean Bob. You are not allowed to consume HB’s offerings and criticize other people about their weight (nor should you at any other time). That’s like calling your heroin dealer your “acupuncturist."Considering your only other review on Yelp is of a Yoshinoya in downtown Los Angeles which you gave 5 stars (really?!), we’ll just assume you have no idea what you’re talking about. Or that you’re racist.
5. The martyr of Hometown Buffet
Peter you are a God amongst men. Not only did you decide against using the handicap stall while thinking of others, but you also decided to “destroy/blowup” the lavatories at HB’s even less savory retail counterpart K-Mart. Congratulations on your weight loss, and if you’re ever in the Los Feliz area I’d like to buy you a cappuccino that will rock your fucking world.
Everything is a learning experience, and my trip to Hometown Buffet was nothing more than just that. While I’m grateful that I was able to enjoy my mediocre smorgasbord of unappetizing fare without the toilet clogging and leaking out into the main room, or running into Peter while “destroyed/blew up” the restroom with charity on his mind, I really would have liked to see what this joint was like with the other managers around. Unfortunately I’ll never know, and there sure as hell won’t be a next time.
I have included Todd’s full rant below, because we should all take the time to try and understand his plight. It is going to be ok Todd, I promise.
I look forward to a night on the town with you Todd, with all the goddam condiments we could ever need.