It was like any other Sunday morning: biscuits and country gravy with an apple sausage link on a small plate to my upper left. On my main plate, two strips of bacon, a stack of pancakes covered in maple syrup, and a spinach, cheese and mushroom omelette that my buddy from across the bar made especially for me. He and I have a bartender/regular kind of relationship, only it’s a salad bar and instead of whiskey, he’s slinging large grade A’s at the omelette station. A glass of cold, fresh squeezed orange juice (OK, probably from concentrate) to my upper right paired with a hot cup of coffee (instant, I’m guessing). And my Hometown Buffet homie of equal portly stature, across the table with his own breakfast feng shui in front of him. Everything was copacetic until this tall, slim yet voluptuous hot tamale walked across the restaurant. Did we really just see that? A perfect 10 in a place that barely had 1 stars on Yelp?! Seeing this Victoria Secret Angel in our favorite all-you-can-eat establishment threw us for a loop! Was she lost or lost a bet or forced to come here? My buffet bros and I just sat dumbfounded for a while, as the country gravy curdled. I was prepared for a meal, but I was not expecting to see a snack.
I Saw You is an anonymous “man on the street” column. Email your rants and raves about co-workers or any badly behaving citizens to
iS*****@me*******.com
, or send to 380 S. First St, San Jose, 95113. Submissions should stick to about 100 words.
