T
ool & D
ie page 32
D
umpster
D
iving
With Bone & Heidi
"That which is painful to the
body may be profitable to the
soul" Our fortune
Heidi and I hadn't in-
dulged in the Chinese trough in awhile,
but after a few months the cravings get
so strong for some MSG, that we even-
tually have to submit to our tempta-
tions. Putting the diners on hold for a
month, we decided to shift gears a bit
for this write-up. Heidi made a good
point to justify breaking our diner ad-
diction...what are the three places that
the music culture/lifestyle folks make
the center of their food universe? 1.
After a long night of `indulging', or first
thing in the morning, if you're looking
for something quick and inexpensive...
Diners. 2. Anytime, anywhere, and as
a standard go-to no-brainer...Pizza and
wings. 3. Stuck in the studio recording
for 14 hours, or hunkering down in the
band room working on some new
songs...Chinese take-out. Three
completely different types of nour-
ishment with one com-
mon thread.
Considering that our
taste for gruel is any-
thing but sophisticated,
and since we fancy
ourselves as Blue-Collar
elitists, it would be pre-
tentious of us to actu-
ally `review' the food.
Tastes are subjective.
Heidi and I have always
approached this as
more about the adven-
ture, and the absolute
nonsense that seems
to ensue whenever we
leave the safety of our
abode.
We've been to the Su-
per King Buffet many
times before, so we
decided not to bring
in the camera. There
are always too many
employees hovering
around your table watching
your every move. It's located in
my favorite place of all time - Shop
City...the Mos-Eisley of strip-mall
shopping centers. The only other
place that even comes close is the
Valley Plaza south of the city. Pull-
ing in from Teall Ave., we have 3
close calls from 3 different drivers
who were not paying attention to
where they were going. It seems
that all common sense flies out
the window. I mean...I'm white-
knuckling though a friggin' parking
lot, for Christ's sake!
We get there around lunch time,
but because it's Sunday, its dinner
prices all day long. I guess throw-
ing a few rubbery crab legs out
for the drooling masses justifies
charging everyone $5 more per meal.
Anyway, Heidi orders the drinks while
I make the mad dash to the buffet (I'm
starving!!!). The seating is sectioned
into two halves, and the demographics
of the clientele was obvious to anyone
that was paying attention. Our half
was the larger section, and including us,
there were only 10 people total sitting
in it (all Caucasian). The smaller half of
the room looked more like the U.N.,
not to mention there must have been
at least 50-60 people jammed in over
there. A coincidence, I'm sure.
On my first trip up, I noticed ALOT of
folks who were overdressed. As I'm
weaving in and out of the cattle, I over-
hear "Oh, hi! Have been here from the
time church let out?", "Yeah..." That
explains it, church folk in their Sunday
best, completely unaware that they
were dipping their ties into the sweet
and sour sauce (no lie, there had to
have been 25-30 churchies there). Hei-
di and I take turns going up to the buf-
fet, so our table and belongings aren't
left unattended. She goes up, and I sit
and take a sip of the soda that's in front
of me...regular! We were stereotyped...
again. We started this stupid little game
because of this very place. They screw
up the drinks every time we come here.
I think we would be disappointed it
they got it right. Heidi's brave enough
to get some crab-legs on her first trip,
but was visibly agitated when she re-
turned to our table. It seems that when
she began filling up her plate, she was
surrounded like the last human alive in
a zombie flicks. Except...these zombies
were chanting `Crab, crab...' instead of
`Brains, brains...'. So much for personal
space.
I take the last bite of food from plate #2,
and I haven't even set my fork down
yet (yes fork, no chopsticks for this low-
brow), before an arm came from out of
nowhere and whisked away my plate in
a split second. Now come on, there's et-
iquette even in soup kitchens, and near-
ly clipping me in the chin to remove my
plate before I was done chewing was a
bit much. Adding to that, the passive,
The Super King Bu et