Saturday Night Fever

This guest post from Werner Rogers

After coming to Orlando, Florida, I logged on to satellitetvorlandofl.net to purchase my satellite TV as a means to familiarize myself with the new area. Low and behold, one of the commercials I happened to see on TV was for the Sizzler! Now, the Sizzler holds a near and dear place in my heart. Although the food may be nothing but a glorified salad bar of mediocre (or less) grade, this place embodies all that was wonderful in my childhood. Growing up, my parents had two families that we were best friends with. All of us kids grew up together, and we were really more like family than anything. Part of our weekly routine was going out every Saturday night to the Sizzler. In total, there must have been about 11 of us each Saturday, and the kids ranged in age from toddlers to tweens. The night was always the same. The parents sat at one end, kids at the other. Even though Sizzler strictly enforced the “no sharing” policy off of the salad bar, we came so regularly that this rule was passed over for us. Because my parents refused to spend money on a salad bar plate for my sister and I, we would sneak up through the lines and load our napkins down with croutons, bacon bits, and blue cheese dressing. Without fail, the evening would end with one the kids pouring over a drink onto the rest of the table, and we would get up to leave with food on the carpet like a pack of cavemen had eaten there. As uncouth and dirty as this sounds, those Saturday nights at the Sizzler were some of the most fun and memory-driven of my childhood.