Guten Tag! This particular food column is coming to you, the reader, straight from the author's home state of Ohio. The author is on a much-abbreviated great American road trip, thanks to a car that is now residing in a scrap yard. Regardless, I just visited one of the few remaining amusement parks in the country not owned by Disney or the Six Flags Corporation. That's right folks, Ohio is home to more than five former U.S. presidents and one energy company whose own facilities are so shoddy that they trigger the largest power outage in North American history: Ohio is also home to Cedar Point, \America's rockin' roller coaster park.""
Aside from having most excellent roller coasters, Cedar Point is also a monument to all that is hilarious about American life, namely mullets, handlebar mustaches, high school girls who are doing their best to be mini Beyonces and Christinas, T-shirts that read ""Never Forget"" with American flags and maybe a screaming eagle and NASCAR paraphernalia.
But the best testimonial to the slice of Americana that is Cedar Point is the Midway Market. The Midway Market, which is in plain sight of any park visitor, is the perfect place to watch and study the surroundings. What is the Midway Market? Only the most amazing ""all-you-can-eat"" buffet-style dinner in Sandusky, Ohio. I'm not kidding about this either. What a scene my comrades and I witnessed while we sat there.
I came to Cedar Point prepared. ""I'm wearing my stretchy pants, with the elastic waist,"" one portly visitor remarked. Simply put, the problem with buffets is that one cannot help but get in on the action.
Sweet Christ! The filth that passes as food only at buffet restaraunts. I consumed some large pieces of fried chicken, as well as bratwurst and sauerkraut in addition to the egg rolls that I threw on my plate for the hell of it. The only thing aiding in my digestion was a large cup of pink and entirely fake lemonade. But no, like pigs at a trough, everyone must eat or else be shoved to the way side by a larger or more determined swine-or in this case swine/human mutant.
We head for the one-and-a-half hour line for the new coaster at Cedar Point, Top-Thrill Dragster. This beast of a coaster shoots the rider from zero to 120 in four seconds and then drops them 420 feet. The benefit of the long wait, we all figured, is that our large intestines would get the upper hand in their battle for supremacy of the feral grease monster all of us had let loose in our stomachs by our own free will.
The line moves along surprisingly quickly and suddenly I'm strapped in and ready to be shot to the moon, or wherever this contraption will send me if it breaks. The ride is a blur of speed, g-forces and vertigo. My stomach holds on and I survive.
