The Indians are drugging my food.

It's the only explanation.

Situation: There's an Indian restaurant down the street from where I live. They have an all-you-can-eat buffet. We're talking a dang good buffet here, too -- not just some samosas and rice. They've got all number of things I don't remember the name of, so let's call it korma paneer gobi aloo curry.

There are many days when my mouth waters at the thought of korma paneer gobi aloo curry.

Complication one: My fellah can't eat Indian food without getting a sick tummy.

Complication two: All my close gal-pals who live nearby are dieting. The one who isn't lives on the other side of Austin.

Complication three: The restaurant has an endless supply of 2-for-1 buffet coupons, but I am not two people.

The result: I wait and wait and wait for some non-dieting friend with an iron tummy to come along and agree to meet me for Indian food not later but now. They are all wary.

So every once in a while, I give in and walk, no, run to the restaurant and eat three times my normal amount of korma paneer gobi aloo curry, and then polish it off with some mango lhassi.

And I am telling you, those people have put some narcotics* in their food or something, because every time I binge, I can just barely make it home before I'm in bed and asleep by 9:30 and don't know nothin' till dawn the next day.

Whatever it is... I hope they keep doing it!