The Endless Steaming Bins by DragonSkulls Good Ol' days(days before Covid) writing prompt entry |
I remember long ago, those precious good old days. I miss so much the joyous times I spent at the buffets. With countless plates of yummy grub I piled miles high. Forgive me as I reminisce if I break down and cry. I'll not forget the steak and shrimp or eggrolls filled with pork, where I could use real silverware and not a worthless spork. Where waitresses would smile and bring the drinks at my request. Unlike the drive-thru window guy who's clinically depressed. When food inside the restaurant would come out fresh and hot, instead of this cold slop I eat in their dumb parking lot. I miss the endless, steaming bins of gourmet foods I crave. How sorrowful this frozen crap that shames my microwave. I long so for the good old days. These woes run far too deep. The dreaded loss of loved buffets still haunts me in my sleep.
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