"All They Can Eat" Special

I'm in love with my favorite lunch place, the Mongolian Grill. I love being able to assemble my own meal (remember folks, spinach goes in the bowl first, then chicken, broccoli and onions, then you weigh the whole thing down under a blanket of heavy egg noodles). I love concocting sauce combinations (a spoonful of garlic and ginger, 3 spoons each of black bean and peanut sauce) like a mad chemist in a lab. I love watching the guy dump my bowl onto the big round sizzling grill and deftly stickhandle the contents along the surface with two pool-cue-style chopsticks.

I also love the sign that is posted above the buffet-style assembly station:

For your health, everyone will be given a plate for your meal after it is cooked.

I suppose it would be good for my health--in a severe calorie restriction sort of way--if I were obliged to share my repast with everyone in the joint, but I'm just not feeling that generous when I'm hungry. Luckily for me, though, this is merely, once again, a case of singular/plural pronoun confusion, and I have not yet had to go table to table doling out my rice and veggies for supplicating patrons with watering mouths and thrust-out empty plates.