The Buffet Rule

Really, the buffet was the reason I joined. It was legend. Among the men's clubs of our great city, no one else could touch it.

It wasn't until I had already paid my dues that I learned about "the problem." There was, among our abundant membership, a coterie of obese, greedy slobs who always pushed their way to the front of the line and devoured the elegant spread before the rest of us could get our napkins straightened out. So when I said of the buffet that no one else could touch it, well, it turned out that, after the swine brigade, ... really, no one else could touch it.

So some of the guys got together and drafted a club rule called the Buffet Rule. Pretty simple concept, really. It just said that everyone in the club had to have an equal share of the buffet. Getting it adopted, however, wasn't quite so simple.

"It's a decision of the Board," my friend Jimmy told me. "They're the ones who have to pass it."

"Ok," I said. "Let's submit it to the Board."

"Ye-es," he said, "we need to do that, but not right away."

"Why not?" I asked.

"There will be opposition from ... you-know-who. We have to lobby the Board hard to get this thing passed."

"Ok," I agreed. "I'm game."

So I attacked the lobbying with vigor. As I approached each board member in turn, I discovered that not a one of them was less than 300 pounds, and every one of them had left at least one footprint on my back from one buffet scramble or another.

The Buffet Rule failed to gain the approval of the Board.

"We didn't didn't convince them!" moaned Jimmy. "It's our fault for not lobbying hard enough! We have to be more persuasive next time."

"Jimmy," I said, "no amount of persuasion will convince swine to share their trough. Our choices are either to throw those bums out or find a new club."