In retrospect, I should have sought greener pastures the moment they rudely insisted I not bring a shotgun into a children's restaurant. However, I have come to recognize ANTIS are everywhere, and as my disarming was more or less a faith accomplish, I complied with the request of the ruddy little onager behind the counter. I should note that the seats were woefully undersized for a 400 lb. man like myself, and thus, I was forced to suffer the humiliation of being seated on a bench in the shape of a walrus. As an accomplished gourmand, I would not willingly pass on CEC's all-you-can-eat buffet, and thus submitted myself to what would be the first of many humiliations.
All seemed better once I approached the buffet. I took five plates, piling them high with mashed potatoes, fried chicken and entire pizzas. Once I got back to my table, I was confronted by a terrible shock – the standard condiments I require were amiss! I flagged down one of the wait staff and (deep breath) inquired as to the whereabouts of the fish sauce. My request was met with blank stares by the pockmarked teen who was "helping" me, so I inquired of the manager. He said he would address this problem forthwith.
A few moments later, said manager return with a phial of something remotely resembling water. This was quite enough. I bellowed "THIS IS NOT AUTHENTIC FISH SAUCE!!" Worse, I then glanced at my mashed potatoes, and realized that they were incorrectly prepared. "THESE ARE NOT PARBOILED POTATOES", I wailed. Unfortunately, I am a sufferer of adult incontinence, and this latest outrage pushed me right over the edge – I relieved myself right then and there, causing a wet stain to appear on the front of my size XXXL trousers.
"That's it!" howled the manager, "you're outta here, fatso!" I wondered who he was speaking to, as I am *not* fat, I am big boned. But to my horror and disbelief, he was addressing me! Before his misplaced words had completely sunk in, several surly looking thugs appeared from the kitchen. They bodily removed me from my walrus perch, throwing me out the door, saying "AND DON'T COME BACK!"
Not only will I never come back, I will shout from the various and sundry rooftops – when it comes to CEC, sufferers of adult incontinence, beware.