The Buffet

Sally peers over the top of her menu following laughter from the other side of the restaurant.

           “They’re having fun,” Paulette observes as she, too, watches them.

           Margie follows their gaze to a table where eight young men, teenagers, are eating, talking, and generally enjoying themselves. Soon, Patty and Karen join their friends in watching this raucous group.

           The Five Babes, as these women refer to themselves, get together once a month for a “girl’s night”. These evenings usually include dinner, sometimes a movie or trip to the winery, and a chance to unwind and be themselves. They’ve known each other since their high-school-aged children began kindergarten together and have established a comfortable sisterhood.

           Sally is the organizer of these get-togethers and can always be counted on to get the ball rolling when a new idea is floated for their coveted night out. Tonight it’s a simple dinner at a local restaurant that features a buffet, to be followed up with drinks at the hottest club in town where a celebrated local comedian will perform.

           Paulette is the hard-working shy one, except when she’s with the other Babes – then anything goes! Buy her a few drinks and she’ll be dancing on the table before the evening has ended.

           Margie is on her third marriage, and still enjoys flirting when released from the bonds of matrimony for a few hours. The popular refrain, “I’m married, not dead,” is often effused from her lips.

           Karen and Patty are the quiet ones in the group, usually holding back and listening more than offering an opinion. Patty is the only one of the five who is single, divorced now for three years.

           “Who’s ordering the buffet,” Karen asks as she tries to make up her mind.

           “I’d like a little bit of everything from that buffet,” Margie answers, nodding toward the table where the boys are. “For my first course, I’ll have a little carrot soup,” an obvious reference to a young man with orange-red hair.

           Her friends titter as Patty asks, “You’re attracted to men with orange hair?”

           “Girl, look at his body! He must be in the gym seven out of seven days a week,” Margie replies.

           Sally voices a preference for dessert first. “Look at the one with the dark tan in the yellow shirt. His hair reminds me of a fudge-chocolate brownie.”

           Patty, sounding a little embarrassed, says, “Listen to us, we’re talking about those guys like they’re sex objects.”

           “Carrot-top can be the object of my sex,” Margie states as the sound of cackling and clucking surrounds her.

           Now Paulette gets in on the game, asking, “What about the one with the long, sun-bleached hair? It reminds me of a bowl of spaghetti that has tipped over and spilled down his back.”

           “It looks like spaghetti because it’s long and stringy – like it needs to be washed,” observes Karen.

           Paulette gazes at spaghetti-head in a faux dream-like state. “I don’t mind a little dirty.” With that, the laughter reaches a new decibel level as her friends delight in her bawdy comment.

           “Good lord, we’re either really hungry for food or for sex,” Karen declares after timidly pointing out the six-pack under a see-through mesh shirt worn by the tallest and leanest in the group. “It looks like grill marks on a thick, juicy steak.”

           “You’re a vegetarian, Karen,” Margie reminds her.

           “Perhaps not today,” she quips.

           “You ladies are having a good time,” their waitress remarks as she approaches the table. Betty – according to her badge – has auburn hair, which is piled high atop her head and secured with a yellow #2 pencil. Her bright, white uniform pops against the natural, dark color of her skin, hugging her body in a way that compliments her athletic figure. “Are you ready to order?”

           “I don’t think you can serve what we’re hungering for,” Margie tells her, winking at the others. “See those young guys at that table over there? We’d like to order some of that, starting with the one that has hair the color of carrot soup.”

           Betty twists around to get a look at what these middle-aged women are making such a fuss over. “Those are some good-looking boys, alright,” she remarks as she turns back to her customers. “They’re all football players from the local high school - in here a couple times a week after practice or a game.”

           “Lucky you,” Sally says, the hint of a lewd smile crossing her face.

           “Well, that explains a lot,” Paulette adds. “They’re all in damn good shape. My Ed hasn’t looked like that in thirty years. Hell, he NEVER looked like that!”

           Again the laughter and Betty laughs along with them. “So who do you think is the cutest?” she asks.

           “Oh, we all have our favorites,” Margie says. “Hey, how about you let us pick up the tab for their dinner. Just let them know it’s on us before they leave.”

“We’re paying for their dinner?” Patty asks, surprised and not at all happy with the suggestion.

“We can all chip in, can’t we? After all, this has been more entertaining than the club we’re going to later, and we’ve already seen more hot guys here than we will at the bar. What do you say – everyone in?”

Glances are exchanged and shrugs are given as they agree to buy dinner for the football players with the food-like features.

Before Betty goes for their drinks, she points out the end of the buffet line where they can pick up their plates and begin taking their food.

“By the way,” Patty asks before Betty leaves the table, “did the boys all get the buffet? It’s like twenty dollars a head plus drinks, right?”

Betty smiles. “That’s not my table tonight, but I can tell you what they ordered just the same because it’s the same thing they always order. They each got the buffet, and most likely burgers and fries from the menu. Oh, and milkshakes – they love their milkshakes. Remember, I told you they were football players – they eat a lot. But don’t worry, they receive ten percent off their entire bill because of their connection.”

Four sets of accusatory eyes now focus on Margie as each of them begins to do the math in their head. Trying to put a positive spin on the situation, Margie comments on the discount. “Ten percent, that’s rather good. Do they know the owner or something?”

Betty levels her gaze at Margie. “Something like that. Carrot soup is my son, but I call him Bobby. You ladies let me know if you need anything else. You can refill your own drinks at the counter on the other side of the food line.”

“Okay, well, that’s embarrassing,” Margie confesses as she watches Betty walk away.

“And he’s your favorite too,” Karen says, hoping to get a laugh from the group.

But no one is laughing now, and all banter concerning the boys has ended. “I feel a bit foolish,” Sally admits to the others. “Our kids go to school with those boys, after all.”

“I feel bad for our waitress,” Karen adds. “I wouldn’t be pleased if a woman twice my son’s age was talking about him like he was a piece of meat.”

“You were talking about one of them like he was a piece of meat,” Patty reminds her. “A thick, juicy steak.”

Karen blushes and conversation resumes, but now the talk is of the upcoming elections and who has been invited to the Jensen’s annual Halloween bash.

The next time they see Betty, she drops the check at the table and wishes them a good evening. As Sally scans the tally for thirteen meals, she wonders how they are going to explain to their husbands a dinner totaling over three hundred dollars. As she gathers her things and pushes herself out from behind the booth where she sits, she asks, “I assume we’re skipping the club?”

As her friends head for the door, Patty hangs back, and Paulette slows to walk with her. “Sorry you got roped into pitching in on that check; you never even commented on a favorite. Geez, that was embarrassing and expensive in the end. We’re old enough to be their mothers, and here we are acting like they’d give us the time of day just because we picked up the tab.”

Patty responds, “Actually, I did have a favorite. The young man in the tight blue-jeans and button-down shirt caught my eye. He has the smoothest, creamiest looking skin – reminded me of cheesecake. I ran into him as I was coming out of the bathroom a few minutes ago and he thanked me for the dinner. And he also asked if I’d like to join him at the beach – the entire team will be there for a bonfire later.”

“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Paulette practically shouts. “He asked you out? You’re not going? Your kids will wonder where you are.”

“The kids are both at sleepovers for the night and, yes, I’m going to meet him there.”

Stunned, Paulette freezes in her tracks. Patty, walking ahead of her, doesn’t slow down for her friend as she has somewhere to be. And she doesn’t want to keep her cheesecake waiting.