Jerry Fisher hasn’t had a lazy Sunday morning in 10 years. He’s been too busy flipping omelets for those of us who get to snooze in.

Known as “the brunch guy” at Hamburger Mary’s, this supercharged chef not only juggles the eggs, he also rolls out a jazzy food spread worthy of church bells (although a couple dozen inflatable flamingos hanging overhead work just as well for heralding in the crowds).

Yes, the buffet is decidedly gay. It soaks up every square inch of the dance floor in the adjoining bar section of Kicker’s. Nearly 10 hot items line the perimeter, with fresh flowers, fancy-cut fruits and desserts arranged prettily in the center. And those ceiling flamingos, we’re told, may very well start multiplying for this weekend’s Pride celebration.

With two bleary-eyed companions in tow, we did what most GLBT brunchers do on Sunday mornings — we drank Mimosas! Well, I should say that two of us did. The straight boy in our trio chose to label himself with a pre-noon mug of beer.

The champagne is Rocar extra dry. It’s included with the price of the buffet ($16.95), which features a satisfying combination of standard breakfast fare, as well as a few items that Fisher changes weekly.

You can count on the made-to-order French Toast, which tasted super. It’s thick and loaded with cinnamon. A few feet down the trod we found flaky biscuits with some great country gravy that screams of sinful bacon fat, along with two particularly good salads — broccoli with boiled potatoes in a light-ranch dressing and a very fresh Caesar.

While Fisher tended to our various omelets — and frantically kept the entire buffet primped and replenished — I decided to sneak in a sample of the casserole-type Chicken Potpie bubbling from one of the chafing dishes. If you’ve ever eaten a frozen potpie made by Swanson, then you will know to skip over this one. Fortunately, it’s one of the dishes that come and go each week in lieu of more desirable items such as Barbecued Ribs, Southern Fried Chicken and Tacos.

In addition to the admirably cooked bacon and sausage links, we delighted over the creamy Seafood Newburg, plus some scrumptious mashed potatoes that seemed like the real deal. At the end of the lineup are cold cuts and cheeses, which in the absence of everything else, make for a perfect European-style continental breakfast.

But we came in with all-American appetites and left with that all-too-familiar bloat you get from buffets. Seeing those Cherry Blintzes on the dessert table didn’t help matters after having wolfed down a couple plates each of Fisher’s finest recipes.

The restaurant’s famous patio, we found, is as lively on Sunday mornings as it is during happy hours and evenings. Both food and atmosphere remain big draws. Music is always playing. And the regular lunch and dinner menu, available all day, features big burgers, hearty sandwiches and, by my account, the best chili-cheese fries in town.

Service is generally swift and casual any day of the week, although we’ve never seen anyone hustle faster than Fisher, who works with a spatula in one hand and a fry pan in the other. And he somehow pulls it all off without messing up a single omelet.