If I say to you "transparent red plastic cups" and "buffet" does that take you back? If I add on "uniquely shaped roof" and "catchy slogans" do you form the image of 1990's Pizza Hut? Okay good, here we go!
I'm at the mercy of the Crystal Glass location in good ol' Forest Lawn, they're fixing a massive rock chip in my windshield, and I have to kill somewhere between one to three hours. Nearby is BK, McDonalds, Tim's and Arby's. None of which are conducive to hanging out for hours and none serve beer. Husband joked yesterday about Pizza Hut and getting the lunch buffet and drinking Pepsi in the red cups. Well I'm fine with that, except for the Pepsi part of course. And after dropping off my car I cross the street and fire a quick text to the husband. "This is such a trip, and we forgot that they serve beer".
I am instantly thrown back in time, something probably close to twenty years. I would assume that almost everyone has a childhood memory of eating at Pizza Hut, and I can't imagine the memories are that different from each other. Frequently we met here for team dinners, cheerleading, hockey or baseball. It's a genius place to shove 20 kids and 20 parents and let someone else do all the work. And for my family it was a treat, a big meal every now and then (I actually think I can hear my moms voice saying how expensive this place is), and to be fair it's not cheap pizza. For us it was a big deal because all five of us would go. During the week it was a crap shoot if we'd get to eat together because as growing kids we all had evening sports/activities. But this was the shit. We wouldn't miss this. The loud, fast paced kitchen when you walked in, seeing the delivery drivers getting packed up and sometimes seeing a cook toss a dough in the air. The big salad bar in the middle, and the little tiny station where they had the dessert pizzas. This was the only thing I looked forward to. Still is to this day; even as I'm writing I'm thinking about that sweet cinnamon and apple, drizzled in icing.. mm.
The tables are the same, if I recall correctly, dark wood, big high back booths with red cushioning. Big enough to fit your family and the towering pizza stand that is so highly anticipated. I remember my brothers glee when the server would drop it off, and the immediate demands of mom and dad. DON'T TOUCH. I also recall at least one brother touching it. Probably, they both did.
Although it's different nowadays (there is only one dine-in location left in the city I believe), it's still the same. The clientele here are frequent users, regulars who are known by name to the one lone server. I walk in and see the office-printed "please wait here sign" tape oddly high up on the wall and as I take off my sunglasses a voice from clear across the restaurant yells out "Hi dear, just for one today?" Sheepishly, which I'm not ever, I say back "yes, take your time". This woman is run ragged. The place isn't full at the moment, but it has the look that it was just busy, and she's trying to catch up. I let her finish with all the things she's trying to get done, we all know my love for the industry, and the patience I have for it, and I go to the washroom first.
The brown tiled floor and tiny hallways predate Accessible Friendly laws and the bathroom needs a reno real bad. That being said, the sink has recently been replaced and it's pimp! Stands out like a sore thumb in the rest of this 1988 decor though. I've spoken to Angela, my server, and told her that I'm killing time and I don't want to be a burden. She kindy seats me at a booth and has a giggle to herself when I order a bottle of beer. She's been hollering out Pepsi and Iced Tea refills since about 11am so I'm a refreshing change. She explains the buffet to me, and let's me know it'll be taken down at 1:30pm. I've got plenty of time so I sit back and people watch for a solid fifteen minutes.
There is a very large table in the back corner and about half the booths are full. It's a very blue collar area of town, and that is evident during lunch here. It's a great deal I suppose, all you can eat, 7 bucks, and probably 3 for a pop. Ten bucks and you're as full as you want to be. Construction workers at almost every table, some tables are moms with arguably more children than they can handle. Angela is on it. She's getting everyones drinks and she's in contact with the kitchen on what's run out and what's coming out next. She goes out of her way to get some kids a cheese pizza, and someone else is upset that the pasta salad is gone. It's getting close to cut off time and instead of saying no, she goes back and makes an individual portion of salad for him. I overhear her tell someone that she's worked here for seven years and hasn't eaten a pizza in the last three years. I don't blame her. We have pizza every few weeks, but the 'Hut is a treat. It's still the exact same recipe as I remember, pan pizza - thick bottom crust, almost overdone edges with crunchy bits of cheese and so greasy. My keyboard is a bit shiny, much to my husbands chagrin 😉.
An hour later and it's almost empty. I can't imagine that there will be another rush before dinner time so I'll take my time finishing my beer and waiting for the phone call to go rescue my ride. I'll probably go over to the GT Boutique and do some shopping. I hear Angela talking about a table of ladies who left her a $1.15 tip on a fifty-two dollar bill. She snorts "it's not like they couldn't afford it, she had a wallet full of fifties." Poor lady, running her ass off to her your fat ass eleven Diet Pepsi refills. God I hate shitty tippers. I ask Angela for my bill and I leave her a generous tip. She thanks me sincerely and I tell her it's no problem. She says she hopes to see me again soon and I say you will! In the not too distant future we will come back here, with the child, to start our own memories. I don't imagine it'll be around until she's old enough to remember so I'd like to get in just one or two visits, red cups and dessert pizza for all of us. 💕
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