Late middle-aged gentleman sits alone at 4-top table, quietly enjoying his Mongolian BBQ.
Enter tall, big-boned woman with ridiculous haircut.
Woman: They don't got nothing fresh up there. It's all dried-out. I told them.
Man: Why don't you try the BBQ. It's good.
Woman: NO! I ain't want that. I want the good stuff. It's dinner time. They need the good stuff out. It's all dried up.
Man: (reasonably) But, it's a Mongolian BBQ. Why do you need the other stuff?
Woman: I want the buffet! (drops head into hands and proceeds to cry)
Man: (reasonably) Why don't you try your soup?
* * *
So, at this point, I've been up to the buffet to get the usual for my son: olives, cucumbers, ranch dressing, more ranch dressing, garlic noodles, rice and teriyaki chicken. Don't judge that diet. He's only 21. Months...not years.
The establishment was a little low on the teriyaki chicken, which I really like, but I don't like any kind of chicken enough to cry over it. Also, they weren't out of food or only serving dried up food.
However, the weeping Gorg got me wondering what kind of food, in a perceived dried-up state, might make me cry. I couldn't come up with anything, but I'm trying. I'd really like to find that food. I'd eat it all the time and, yes, I would cry when I couldn't have it.