When our bill came to the table, the most important text on it read “adult buffet” — meaning we’d been charged the price for adult meals, not for children’s. Makes perfect sense. But of course my fevered brain could not leave it that way for long. (It’s flu shot day here at Media HQ, and whatever secret alien-DNA-splicing formula the government has injected into my arm is going straight to my head.)
Adult buffet. That could mean a couple different things. A buffet of adults, for example, just like a pizza buffet is a buffet of pizza options. Nice alternative to the impersonal online dating scene; just approach the selections with a clean plate, make your choice in person, and please don’t sneeze on the offerings. This would also work for job recruiting and the casting of movie extras, and it’s a much more humane term than “cattle call.”
And then there’s “adult buffet” in the same vein as “adult movies.” You know the kind I mean. Actually, I’m pretty sure something like this already xxx-ists. It’s called late-night cable TV. Or so I’ve heard.
Get your flu shots, kids, or you too could come down with a sick mind.