Tuesday, April 18, 2006

But Was It A Playboy Bunny?

So, after church on Easter Sunday, we went out for brunch courtesy of my wife's mother. I don't go to hotel brunches very often, mainly because I can't afford it myself, but also because everything is just so damn fancy that I feel way out of my element. But if someone else is voluntarily treating? I am so there.

Ever since I entered my mid-thirties, I have noticed my metabolism slowing down. I used to love buffets. Show me a steakhouse with a big salad bar including hot foods and desserts, and I was good for the day. If I try that now, I get stuffed in a matter of minutes.

So I fought off the temptation to consume the easter eggs and candy from my basket at home, saving my appetite for brunch. And what a brunch it was. Nice salad, some sort of creamy chicken dish, shrimp fettucine alfredo, potatoes, and beef. Blood-dripping, red, almost raw BEEF. And it was goooood. So good, in fact, that I almost didn't have room for afters.

But how could I resist? This hotel had a chocolate fountain. I've seen pictures of these things but never had I enjoyed the flowing delight until that moment. The chocolate fountain table had chunks of yellow cake (mmmm...uranium), strawberries, and biscotti for the guests' dipping pleasure. So I covered a couple of strawberries and cake chunks with sweet runny milk chocolate, grabbed a slice of chocolate cheesecake, and returned to my table for what my stomach told me was my very last helping of food for the day.

We had a good reason to hang around and digest for a little while -- there was entertainment on hand, in the form of (guess who?)...the Easter Bunny! There weren't that many kids running around in the dining room, so my brood made damn sure that they spent as much quality time with the giant rodent as they could. My younger son, who like to make messes all over his bedroom floor, has been under a threat of Easter Bunny exclusion unless he cleaned his room before Sunday. He hadn't, but the Bunny brought him goodies anyway, God bless it. Well, the boy was so concerned about the possibility of being excluded that he looked the Bunny right in the eye and asked, "Did you see my room?" I was quite content to sit back and let them have all the fun, but I couldn't avoid a little bit of bunny time of my own.

On my way back to the men's room with my sons, I spotted the Bunny tending bar. What a sight! We almost made it past there when the Bunny saw us and ran over to "speak" to the boys in bunny language. They made a point of identifying me as their Daddy, which prompted the Easter Bunny to run over and give me a great big hug, which I was more that happy to return.

And it made me wonder. Who was in the costume? I have observed in past that young women usually wear these costumes at amusement parks. Was this Easter Bunny a female? I also noticed, as I entered the hotel, that all of the employees had year-round tans and the women were all nicely attractive. Was this Easter Bunny a hot chick? That made the bunny hug all the more special.

Now, looking back, I suppose I should be glad that I didn't find out who or what was inside the costume. All I could tell from the hug was that the Bunny was skinny. It could have been some scrawny punk kid that the dining room staff dragged out of the kitchen for some holiday humiliation.

As far as I'm concerned, that Easter Bunny was a girl and she was hot. And I'm going to keep telling myself that until this brunch is a distant memory.


jipzeecab said...

I'm quite certain you didn't get a hug from this character:

Nicko McDave said...

Good Lord, I hope the Bunny who hugged me doesn't look anything like that one. (Actually, I look like that since I gave myself a buzz cut last week.)

I scanned some pictures of the hotel Easter Bunny last night, so I may post one or two on here. The performer's eyes are quite visible through the mesh eyes of the costume. They look vibrant, but it's still hard to tell if it's a chick.