Bugaboo Creek

My niece, my only relative in the Rochester (NY) area, likes to eat out.
She lives with her mother and husband and daughter in her mother’a homestead.
So I guess this technically makes more than one relative in the Rochester area.
Her mother is my wife’s brother’s first wife. I think my wife’s brother is now on wife number-four, I’ve lost count.
I’ve seen my niece quite a few times since my wife died, more than when she was alive.
My wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th, 2012. I was kind of stunned at first and devastated. I’m perhaps not as much now, but I’m still affected by it.
Obviously my niece is making an effort. I appreciate it, but she’s not my wife.
I’m told I need people around, and that’s what she’s doing.
But no one can replace my wife.
So when they eat out I get invited. This is on top of other visits.
Last Sunday June 16th was Father’s Day, an excuse to eat out.
Her husband, being a father, would pick a location.
A Golden Corral has recently opened in the Rochester area.
That was our first choice, but it would be so crowded we avoided it.
Our next choice was Red Lobster, but it too was crowded.
So they decided to keep looking when they passed.
Down the street was Bugaboo Creek, and it wasn’t crowded.
They stopped there, and called me to say they’d changed restaurants.
I was on-the-road by then — it takes about 35-40 minutes to get from my house to the road with the restaurants.
But my car is Bluetooth-enabled, so I answered while driving.
Her call promptly went south, so my niece tried again.
I know where Bugaboo Creek is; my wife ate there once.
Once inside I sat with my relatives.
This wasn’t a buffet; we’d be ordering from a menu.
Bugaboo Creek is a restaurant that plays upon the character of its name.
It conveys itself as swashbuckling, full of Canadian outback.
All I could think of is how do they keep this place dust-free?
The rafters were all open, and antlers were everywhere. There are mounted deer-heads and moose-heads. An old wooden canoe was up there.
Some trophy-heads have flapping mouths that talk or serenade you.
Every once-in-a-while a moose-head did this. It was so noisy we couldn’t hear it, and all l I could think of was “Marcy it’s everywhere!”
On the menu, “moose-juice” is listed as an alcoholic drink. All it is is pineapple-juice mixed with vodka. Coke for me!
My niece’s daughter got a soda-drink with an illuminated ice-cube. First it glowed red, then blue, then red, then blue, and so on ad infinitum.
Seeing this, all I could think of was “Marcy it’s everywhere!”
A loud waiter for the next table gushingly described a chicken entré. “We take the chicken out back at beat it.” Um, Marcy it’s everywhere!
Silliness was occurring all around me.
Someone brought a gigantic plate of nachos and dip while we waited for our entrés.
Her explanation was it was to compensate for our long wait. Funny, it seemed like every table got this.
I split an entré with my sister-in-law. There was enough in that entré to feed a family of five in Bangladesh.
My niece’s husband got a charred, greasy rack of spareribs. He also got what looked like an entire roasted chicken.
He dove in. How does anyone eat that much?
He also kept getting “bread.” Tiny rye-loaves that looked like turds. He’d saw off a slice and slather it with real butter.
He must have eaten four of these loaves.
So all I ate were five deep-fried chicken-strips and baked-beans from my sister-in-law’s entré. No nachos, no turd-bread.
The deep-fried chicken was excessive, like where’s the chicken? (Out back being beaten!)
So is it worth eating out with these people who aren’t my wife?
Yep! It’s always fun to socialize.
But I don’t know about Bugaboo Creek. It’s okay, but a friend described it well: “Chuck E. Cheese for adults.”

• RE: “Marcy, it’s everywhere!” —“Marcy” is my number-one Ne’er-do-Well — she was the first I was e-mailing stuff to. Marcy and I worked in adjacent cubicles at the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired. At one time she asked how I managed to dredge up so much insane material to blog, and I responded “Marcy, it’s everywhere!”