Arrested at Bob’s Big Boy

Image of the day: Bob

This is not as bad as it sounds. Chatto and I had gone out for an early morning buffet cruise in Burbank and decided rather quickly on a Bob’s Big Boy on Riverside Drive known for its generously stocked table-side cheese sauce dispensers (something not very common at Big Boy buffets).

Settling in quickly at a table by the bathroom so as to remain incognito, I made my first buffet pass at 7:35. At 8:05 on the nose (Chatto times all my passes) I returned from my third pass, and several minutes later, hit the buffet again for a fifth, and probably, final pass, when I was stopped by a Bob’s Big Boy employee named Randy and told to hand over my plate. I was shocked and refused, so Randy brought the manager, who told me that it was Big Boy policy to allow no more than eight passes at the buffet. That is to say, they were claiming I’d made seven passes when I’d only made four. It was outrageous, but things like this happen. I calmly offered them both an autographed Urban Justice key chain in exchange for a fifth, and final, pass at the buffet (a fully warranted pass according to Big Boy policy) at which point the two broke into laughter. When I revealed my true identity (I’d left my pony tail at home again), they found this even funnier than my offer of an autographed key chain, and asked me to exit my cruiser and perform a karate chop. Naturally, I refused this too, and frankly, it would have been impossible for me to exit, let alone chop. Instead, I drove right past them at full speed and helped myself to a fresh plate and proceeded to stock it up with my favorite foods and eat what I could. And the next thing I know, the boys in blue had arrived, and towed me to the station for questioning.

Sadly, no one there recognized me either, and I had to have Gary come and go my bail. The upshot of all this is that I was banned from the Riverside Drive Bob’s Big Boy, along with Chatto, who didn’t even finish his first plate. I find this appalling, not to mention racist and sizist, and am currently taking the appropriate legal action. Myron Beas is hopeful.

In lost friends and traitors news, Manuel Uribe lost 2 ounces (he’s back in Monterrey) and Tito Jackson is in rehab. I have reason to believe that the masked man skipping around my yard at night round-housing my jacarandas is Chuck Norris.

Dr. Otix, who left for Luna County, New Mexico with Drahousek on a mining expedition, hasn’t returned yet and I’m actually happy to have the house to myself. More room to be myself.

Yesterday’s Buffets:

Bob’s Big Boy: Obviously no place to buffet in peace. Anyone who’s truly interested in a humane dining experience will avoid it like the plague. As for the quality of the food, I tried the corned beef hash four times, and it was inedible each time. Ditto for the omelet station, breakfast pastries, seasonal fruits, hash browns, lamb cutlets, Canadian bacon, creamed grits, cheesy porridge, bacon, breakfast quesadillas, hotcakes, home fried potatoes, cheese blintzes,
French toast, biscuits and the slice of meatloaf left on my bench by some careless diner the night before. Though I didn’t try their coffee, I would have to say it’s probably no better.

My weight: 801 lbs