Sometimes you just don't know when to stop.
Let me amend that. Sometimes I don't know when to stop. This happens most frequently when I'm presented with a buffet. Pizza, family-style, Swedish smorgasbord, it doesn't matter. I tend to eat until medical attention is required.
Such was the case today, on a trip to the local Chinese buffet. I already forget the name of it, and wouldn't include it even if I did remember as they have not purchased any advertising in my well read virtuapages. Nevertheless, I did as I always do when perusing the Chinese buffet for delicacies that will remind me of that far away, oriental, mystical, Eastern, Asian, Chinalytical taste that no other restaurant can replace: I headed straight for the fried chicken wings. I piled them high on my plate until I could barely see where I was going. Several waitresses eyed me with a look that suggested I was breaching the customs of their ancient land.
Quite aware that I was pushing my luck, I balanced my mountain of chicken wings in my right hand and attempted to carefully ladle a generous helping of pink sweet and sour sauce over my precious pyramid. In doing so, however, I accidentally put my hand in something labeled "trukey dressing". I recoiled instinctively and this reaction caused my plate of authentic Chinawings to escape my possession, teetering and tottering--particularly tottering--until they fell on the floor. 26 separate chicken wings, scattered all over the thin Asian carpet.
Several people gasped in horror. One of them, I'm quite certain, was me.
I noticed that one wing had not fallen to the floor, but instead had tumbled into what looked like brown mashed potatoes. That doesn't have anything to do with anything, but it was what I thought of later more than anything else. It just looked so...pathetic...lying there in that goop. Like, get a life, chicken wing.
I dropped to my knees, avoiding the temptation to cry out in horror like that guy at the end of Platoon. I started picking up the wings, hoping they would be salvageable. I knew without a doubt I would not be permitted to refill my plate with fresh wings. Knowing this, I was aghast to find my chicken wings covered in dog fur. I looked around. The entire floor was covered in fine, white dog hairs. No dog was present; I could only assume he traveled the floor after hours.
I sighed and abandoned my chicken wings. I know a losing battle when I see one.
To make a long story short, my chicken wings could have easily been saved had the proprietors of this restaurant used the Petco Dog Hair Pick-Up Mitt.
It works like this: you put the mitt on your hand and then you get down on your knees and slowly rub it over your entire carpet. It picks up the dog fur like magic. One might even say it picks up the dog fur like oriental magic. You can also remove fur directly from the dog, rubbing and rubbing until he is naked. Get one today at Petco's website or at a Petco retailer near you! Don't let a chicken wing tragedy happen at your home.
I'm Gonna Kill Santa Claus
3 years ago
14 comments:
Wait a second...
I love chicken wings. So authentic.
Sinner, sinner,
dropped your chicken dinner.
Well, around these parts over by the 'Razzoo's' and 'Bone Daddy's Barbecue', there was a much more affordable place called 'Super Buffet 100 Items'. I think by the time they got to like 84 items, they had to start making 'filler' things like pepperoni pizza to live up to their name.
I don't know if you have one (or two or three) but you need a kid.
Send the kid to go and get your sauces or wing refills.
It works well.
Not that I would know.
But I have a wonderful imagination.
hee hee
How many naked dogs are a price worth paying to enable you to gorge on chicken wings? I would limit it to the dogs inside your city limits.
Wait, wait, let me get this right, you wouldn't give free advertising for your local Chinese buffet, but you would give it for Petco?
Ummm...okay. I understand.
Wait a minute. Huh? :)
Foxy: They are delectable and really bring out my cross cultural antennae.
Eric: Yeah, pizza can be found as this buffet as well. I usually avoid it.
Quirky: Hmm, good plan. I'm going to get started making a baby right now!
Gorilla: True, I don't want to be known as a menace to the canine community.
Rambler: What if Petco paid to be included? Did you think of that? Hmm??
Gravity is a harsh mistress.
I don't like you using your blog for shameless promotion of Petco.
I'll probably buy that glove though. But not for dog hair.
oh my goodness...with three dogs in this house I need one of those pronto!!!
It's just a little dog fur. It's a part of a healthy diet.
I read and cried with you, Shawn. Buffetus interuptus is no laughing matter.
What happened?
Did the shark getcha?
Don't you know I look forward to reading your blog?
Gah!
Some people. *grin*
Hellloooo... anybody home? Mr. Shark - are you in there?
Dog fur you say?
And you thought they were "chicken wings."
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