So what next? If you choose to leave a place with a wait time that long, you don't want to waste those minutes in the car hemming and hawing over where to try next, especially since 8:00 pm on a Friday night is prime dining time for almost any fine eatery. So we decided to go to a plain old eatery, no "fine" required. Enter Old Country Buffet. You know this very recognizable sign. You may have eaten under its umbrella, maybe even casually hung around for the breakfast to lunch change-over (guilty), and you shouldn't be ashamed.
Meals at the OCB, as I like to refer to it, often start out in a civil manner. Start with a nice salad and a side of fruit or soup. Then, move on to the old favorites like mashed potatoes and gravy with a buttery roll and a slice of ham. The third plate is where it starts to get ugly - forget any limitations you may have put on yourself when you first rolled into the joint because they're long gone now, buried under a few spoonfuls of corn, some dribbles of ranch dressing, and a dinner roll or two.
Let that digest for a minute then decide on your next move, but remember, since it's your night out you can't neglect the dessert table. It would be a travesty to walk out those doors without having a spoonful of soft serve or a crusty cookie. Once you walk up to that sweets table, though, you're not just going for a spoonful of this or a small bite of that. You're putting a brownie in a bowl, hiding it under a pile of fro-yo and topping it off with a shaking of sprinkles. And after all that, you waddle to the car, stuff yourself into the seat and try to stay awake between the food baby you're harboring and the car heater. Well, that's how it happens for me anyway.
I'm not sure how much longer I can stay up to let this food digest...