Cici's Pizza

I battled suicide after I ate here it's that terrible of pizza.

If ever the movie Contagion needed a real-life petri dish to nullify the necessary willing suspension of disbelief for that kind of perfect storm, Cici's Pizza in Fort Oglethorpe, GA would be it.

In a word: gross.  Or loud.  Or so many other things.  This is another case of getting what you pay for.  For an incredibly cheap price, you can eat yourself about dead on pizza that tastes like your own demise.  And, if the quality of the pizza wasn't enough, imagine hoards of sneezing, booger-picking, coughing, dirty children running around, helping themselves unattended at the bar.  You can watch children sticking their hands deep in the silverware containers after sneezing on them or picking their own (or a friend's) nose.  If that grosses you out, don't even think about using the bathroom.  I think they hose them down in some kind of chemical/urine compound every night.

To avoid the inevitable plague that will someday emerge from this restaurant, I always order a calzone with the cashier when first entering.  Yes, for the price of the buffet, you can order your own specialty pizza, which helps.  I order the same thing every time: a veggie calzone without black olives.  Every time I eat there, my family finishes, and the calzone is nowhere to be found.  Usually, they have made some sort of error with the order pertaining to their penchant for black olives in veggie calzones despite the request for none.  The manager is a super nice guy, though, and he's always corrected the error with a smile.

Finally, you'll also probably find the missing link while eating here.  If you've ever wondered what it would be like to actually interact with some of the most horrifically stereotypical rednecks ever portrayed on television, this is your place: grossly obese families clad in enough camouflage to make the Statue of Liberty disappear with a flock of children clinging to random body parts.  GINORMOUS pickup trucks in the parking lot, missing teeth, and enough college-football garb to make you believe it's a religion rather than a sport.

So, I suppose, for the price you pay for pizza you at least get some entertainment.  Quick tip: if the entertainment gets a little "too real," their vision is based on movement.