the sizzler

so yesterday I went to lunch with my bosses justin + jeff, and another co-worker ben. we heard there’s a great deal. $7.99 gets you 1 trip to the salad bar, a small steak, fries, and a soda. not bad. the catch: it’s at the sizzler. we’re suckers for some cheap lunch, so we went.

we ate our meal with a jolly fervor. we discussed work, politics, the economy, and different movies we love and hate. we laughed, we cried, we drank diet pepsi. the steaks were tiny, the salad bar was formidable, and the table service was interesting. that’s right. interesting. our server was a very very sad older mexican woman who hated the sizzler, her life, and us (see: white america) apparently. 

but this is all besides the point. the point is: do not go to sizzler. after eating, we sat around for another twenty minutes, shooting the shit and delaying going back to the office. by minute 15 we all had a weird look on our faces. the food had settled in our stomachs, and our stomachs were pissed. 

at that moment, i realized that going to the sizzler for lunch is much like a one night stand with an ugly girl. you’re so blinded by your desire for some release (ahem) that you let most things (things that would normally be red flags) slide. but by the time it’s all over…a strong sense of regret pours over you. i felt like i had to sneak out of the place without anyone noticing and go home and take a shower. we went back to work a group of ashamed and beaten men, never to brave the sizzler again.