There is an unspoken battle that has been raging in this nation since the mid-forties. It is a battle as old as modern society, and perhaps unsurprisingly a battle that defines our modern society in a roundabout sort of way. The battle, of course, is of man vs. the all-you-can-eat buffet.
At an all-you-can-eat buffet, you slap down more money than you would typically pay for a restaurant meal in exchange for the promise that no one in that building will stop you from eating as much of their food as possible. So naturally, any self-respecting American male takes it upon himself to not only eat his fill, but as much as humanly possible.
""I always eat more than I should at buffets,"" said Ivan Mairesse, a UW-Madison communication arts major. ""You can mix together whatever you want—lo mein and Jell-O, whatever.""
But the all-you-can-eat buffet is a losing proposition. Either you eat a single plate and feel shameful over your inability to take advantage of a potential bargain, or you overeat and spend the next two hours clutching your stomach and moaning as if in labor.
Why, then, do Americans keep returning to buffets? Part of it is good old-fashioned laziness.
""The nice thing about a buffet is you don't have to make up your mind to order. You see it, you like it and you get it,"" said Sue Kuo, manager of Peking Palace, 736 N. Midvale Blvd.
However, the fact that buffet eating requires less forethought is only part of the equation. The real motivation for America's ongoing, losing battle with buffets rests upon one of our greatest attributes and our Achilles' heel: pride.
Our modern society is founded upon the principles of capitalism, so naturally we are all taught to look for economically advantageous situations and exploit them. The all-you-can-eat buffet is a tantalizing lie—fittingly conceived out of Las Vegas—and is one a prideful American could hardly pass up.
""I know I'm going to regret it, but I always come back to buffets for more,"" Mairesse said.
After the battle is over—rarely taking longer than 45 minutes—it is always clear the buffet has won. The consumer has no choice but to do the American thing: Pretend they won the fight anyway and return for another losing bout.
All-you-can-eat buffets are the Vietnam and the Iraq wars of our capitalist society. The cocksure American tries to exploit a situation with a foreign culture and ends up spending more time in post-battle chaos than actual fighting. Incapable of admitting our limitations, we keep returning to the battlefield though common logic tells us we cannot win.
Attempts to best the all-you-can-eat buffet system reveal the severe, often blinding pride inherent in modern American society. We may have the appetite for all-you-can-eat, but we can't stomach it. In the end, the real battle is one of man vs. self.
