Now, at first I thought they'd eaten most of the food, were unable to finish, and felt that since the portions were so big they shouldn't have to pay. Fortunately, I was wrong, and they actually sent the food back when they saw the size. Still, though, that's not that much better, and it's a classic example of a first-world problem.
What's the point in even complaining about that, anyway? You can just take the leftovers home. If you're doing something afterward and can't take the food or leave it sitting in your car or something, eat what you can or plan ahead and, you know, look into smaller portions or the salad bar instead.
My boyfriend blames patch-hunky mentality.
Now, since I am not a patch hunky and was never around patch hunkies, I'm still not 100% about how one becomes a patch hunky. Like, at what point do you go from just a person living in a patch to being a patch hunky?
According to my boyfriend, "Someone from a patch got out before the infection was complete." He theorizes patch hunkies are county nobility that are "just enough ahead of the average Fayette County humanity guideline that they think they're nobles."
The only real concrete thing I have to go on is patch hunkies are always all up in everybody's business and I guess are mean sometimes. I don't know. I grew up in a creepy house on a hill and moved to a patch when I was 13, but that gives me no status as a patch hunky because I was in a section of the patch that had been turned into a fancy housing community like the one in that awesome X-Files episode.
So what we have here is an example of Fayette County's very own and unique social classes--if you can call them that. It's more like what people call other people when they're complaining about the county. Meaning you've got your patch hunkies, gypsies, welfare queens, white trash, general trailer trash, rednecks, and rich snobs.