Buffet Buffoons and Bandits [Alana]

’This smells too good to be true…’

Something just seemed so…fishy about this place and yet Chesha couldn’t quite put her finger on it. After all standing outside it was hard to put a finger on anything creating those delicious smells cocooning the building. The place practically brandished a shield against unsavory scents, a few pipes up top spewing smoke saturated in delicious meats, stews, and other little goodies that left the seriously contemplating girl a little drooly. All the downturned eyebrows and crossed arms of the world couldn’t diminish the delightful aura of the place as smiling people entered, and forced another wave of wondrous smells on the girl.

Buffets usually struck Chesha as “too good to be true” as they held some of the more annoying rules. One could stuff their face to their delights. Unfortunately “to go boxes” not only didn’t exist, but were prohibited at these sorts of places. You couldn’t finish that plate at a later date unless you basically waited there a few hours (hoping not to get kicked out for lack of eating) and finish it then. If she wanted to bring something back for Xia though it meant a bit of subterfuge. Although Xia knew it to be a rule, the woman hardly batted an eye when Chesha returned home with a few boxes of random dishes, figuring that if she opted to break a “silly rule” amidst more horrible ones then she’d been raised well enough.

It may not have been white picket fences, but Chesha didn’t hate all of her life either.

She’d grown up with a few tricks under her belt, ones her mother could only sigh at, and perhaps those skills gave way to her suspicion senses. Belly growls threatened to reach audible levels, remaining at a whisper for the moment so she could put it off a little longer. The allure of a buffet though sang it’s siren call to her, hands of smoke almost trying to coax her inside and give into desire. Who would make a buffet evil anyways? And how? The escapee’s mind continued its cyclical argument of evil buffets being silly and yet knowing life wasn’t as easy as fiction might lead one to believe.

Lurking outside their place any longer might brand her a vagabond, the dark haired girl glaring at the menu in a last ditch effort to stall and talk herself out of going inside. She failed.

Again the tinkling of the bell nipped at her ears, having listened to it each time someone entered as she contemplated entering.

”WELCOME!” a sugary sweet voice boomed, startling Chesha. People filled this place, some going back for food or returning to their table with a filled plate as other’s inhabited tables and conversed between bites. They hadn’t reached critical mass on the volume scale, but one couldn’t whisper and hope to be heard in this place either. The blond waitress’ perky voice stuck out though, bright red lips locked in a permanent smile, ”Are you expecting more for your party or dining alone today? I’m afraid we’re a little packed so you might have to share a table if that’s all right?”

Eyes remained locked on the woman, enjoying the way her hair curled and yet a little sad to see a lot of it up in a round bun. A pristine white button up shirt hugged her form alongside a black pencil skirt, stockinged feet disappearing into a pair of heels that always fascinated Chesha: how did people stand to wear those for hours on end? The woman bore quite the curves and yet wore them well. The only thing that bothered Chesha was the bright red lipstick, but if the lady wanted that for a bit of flare who was she to judge?

”Just me I’m afraid.” Hands slipped into the pockets of her thin jacket, hood over her head with stitched on cat ears flopping forward. Despite looking a bit rough and like a kid possibly tossed out on the streets though the woman’s smile didn’t falter in the slightest as she showed her to a table, warning her she might be given a table mate or two since her’s was more or less the only unoccupied table at the time. Even that was purely luck since the people there just left. As the woman took a few used dishes away and assured her a bus boy would be along soon to remove the rest, Chesha eyed the spread just beyond a few booths and tables. The place glowed – naturally from the array of heating lamps – and in her hungry state may as well have held the glow of the Heavens itself. Perhaps it was time to fill up a plate? After all this place may not be evil, the vibe could’ve been a kink in her system or maybe something would go down, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t make it out of there before then.

”Time to load up then.”

Paradise stretched before the woman’s golden eyes, orbs glittering as if she’d stumbled upon a dragon’s hoard. Perfectly crisped fried chicken, juicy cuts of steak, vegetables sautéed in golden butter, rice steaming and pure – ready to soak up the sauces of anything paired with it, mashed potatoes with sour cream, butter, and many other fixings separating them from foil-wrapped baked potatoes. Another long table housed salad options, large bowls of varying lettuce before one held options of tomatoes, cucumbers, cheeses, boiled egg, croutons, and eventually beyond the multitude of possibilities lay the sauces armed with ladles. Each table held so much wonder and an endless array of choice Chesha could hardly decide where to even begin! Did she start with warm? Fix a small – or large – plate of salad to go with? Maybe she should opt for a bowl of soup instead? Then again the dessert table came with an ever so sweet song with it that she glided by it with a dreamy sigh.

More and more tables came into view when passed, noodles from small to large with a variety of sauces, hard shelled tacos and soft tortillas ready with more square containers of fixings, and even from here she could spy a tall pile of pork bao, dumplings, duck, beef and broccoli…’They really let you have a taste of everything here.’ For the briefest of moments she imagined what it might be like if the patrons and staff alike – milling about and replacing containers as they noticed them – spontaneously burst into song and dance. ’Could make for some interesting choreography…’ The only problem there lay in the fact they’d prevent her from getting food and she didn’t fancy being clocked by an elbow or perfectly executed kick. ’I guess I see why they never let us watch such things there. Didn’t want us dreaming silly and pointless things.’ Though she rather enjoyed the notion, but her stomach demanded immediate gratification.

Obeying the command of her supreme overlord – underlord? – a pale hand grabbed a warm, white plate and set about doing her best not to make too much of a mountain. It’d be hard though as one thing or another called out to her taste buds, begging her to choose them over everything else. A small cutlet of steak, some chicken, a mountain of mashed potatoes with gravy spilling towards the meats, dumplings, a bao – no two – a single spoonful of spiral pasta she couldn’t name, a bit of sauce for those that oozed to mix with some of the gravy, an eggroll, and a small plate of simple salad greens with tomatoes, white sauce, and spoonful of boiled egg bits on the side. ’This should do for a start at least,’ Chesha tried to convince herself, though at the very least she’d make sure to leave room for dessert. Around then she could worry about sneaking some food into containers and slipping them into her satchel as unnoticed as she could. The final piece de resistance: a bubbly drink. They’d never served such things at the lab and she enjoyed the minor tickle they provided, though always remained careful to treat them like a treat. It kept the taste ever so special to her.

By the time she returned to the table it’d been cleaned of the final debris, spotless and almost sparkling under the lights of the place. While they’d warned the girl of possible tablemates she hadn’t been aware of them already informing someone they could sit at the table after it’d been cleaned and they fetched themselves a plate (or few). Slipping into the booth she peered about, noting the locations of people running about to clean up or help less mobile patrons, and set to cutting up the steak a little, scooping half and some of the tower of potato mash into a container.