Redditor describes his complicated relationship with Pizza Hut's buffet

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Man, I have a love / hate relationship with that Pizza Hut Buffet. When I was a kid I would get my arse ripped for not eating enough to make it worth what we paid for it. So after eating two plates of pizza and a slice of dessert, I was made to go fill another plate and eat it.

Despite my protests, explaining I wasn't hungry anymore, I was told next time my mom would pack a peanut butter sandwich and I could sit there and watch them eat their pizza and I wouldn't get any. The idea that one would sit there and gorge themself to the point of sickness was and still is a foreign concept to me.

To my mother, however, anything less than eating Pizza Hut Buffet until the point of shitting your pants was a waste of good, hard earned money. It was foolish to eat until you were full, or to the point of over stuffing yourself - the goal was to eat until one could eat no more.

When I tell people this they seem not to take me seriously. I am dead serious. My mother, a grown arse woman, has shat herself more times than I could count upon patronizing the Pizza Hut Buffet. And much like Cartman and his Chipoltle-Away, she never learned her lesson. She didn't see this as a "problem" that needed a solution.

My earliest memory was the time she shat herself in a Kmart parking lot. She made her way to the women's restroom, flushed her big arse panties down the commercial toilet, and went commando through the store to purchase a 5 pack of Hanes. The yellow shite stain in the seam of her shorts did not deter her from a full day of shopping.

My first car was the family's old Buick. Rather than trade it in they held on to it as an extra ride so I could drive myself to and from ball practice. She shat herself in the front seat of that car about two weeks before she gave me the keys.

The week she got remarried was not a good time between the two of us. Not that the relationship was great to begin with. I refused to attend the wedding. My brother gave her a hand moving out of her apartment. In an attempt to make amends, I agreed to meet up with her after school to have a heart to heart talk. She never showed up. I did get a phone call later that evening, explaining that she had stopped by the empty apartment one last time and shat herself in the parking lot. She had to soak in the tub, wash her pants, and drip dry in the empty apartment with no towels and no other clothes.

I'm more of a Papa Johns fan myself.

Edit: Damn this post blew up more than my mother's arse hole. Thanks for commenting on my storytelling. I have a friend who keeps telling me I should write these stories down but never bothered. I typed this up on mobile and it kept autocorrecting buffet as Buffett. I can't believe no one threw a Reddit fit on me.

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