While in Reno, we stayed at one of the casinos and ate at their buffet. I've decided I'm not really a buffet person anymore. I don't like the idea of so many people touching all the tongs I'm going to touch to get my food when I don't know where their hands have been or if they've been washed. Maybe my infectious disease class has ruined me. That's what Parker claims. The experience I had at this particular buffet only increased my anxiety. We were waiting in a line ( that was way too long) to get in, just chatting with the couple next to us. As were we talking, I noticed the family in front of us. The father was sitting with his son draped over his lap as the son threw up into his hand over the flower bed, then wiped off his hand into the sweatshirt he was carrying. Gross. I lost my appetite. It got worse when we got into the buffet and I asked the waitress where the restroom was. It was out of the restaurant and way down the hall. I walked out, started walking down the hall and saw just how far away it was and decided to just wait. It was way down there, and packed. Not worth it. So, I go back into the buffet grab a plate and notice this father walking around getting food. That's when I think to myself "How in the world did he have time to go wash his hands and get back here to get food? And now he's walking around touching everything." Parker was of course a little irritated that we'd just forked out 30 bucks for dinner and I didn't want to eat anything. He tried to comfort me by saying that guy must have washed his hands because that would just be too disgusting for him to eat with nasty throw-up on him. He was probably right, but still... I had no guarantee. I ate my salad, and Parker was kind enough to dish up a couple things for me so I wouldn't have to tough anything, but I pretty much filled up on deserts that were already on individual plates. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. Just thinking about it is gross. No buffets for me for quite some time.
Happy Anniversary!!