Tuesday, January 13, 2009

DISILLUSIONED BOB

There's an illusion to Hooters. Not those hooters but that Hooters.

Tasty food. Hot babes with hooters and cleavage. Cool clientele. The in place to be and be seen.

Cowtown is 260 miles from the closest Hooters and that's my excuse for having never been there and done that.

My firstvisit Sunday was anything but tasty food, hot babes with cleavage, cool clientele and the place to be seen.

Fried food. Burgers, wings, sandwiches, fries, ribs, fish and chips. That's about it. When you think Hooters think fried food.

Babes with cleavage? Think little girls. No women just girls who act like girls and who look like they're fresh out of 8th grade.

Clientele? That's the worst part. Old bald men ogling the girls. That gave me the creeps. And then there was the young, balding fat guys who looked like they still lived at home having their pictures taken with the Hooters girls.

I guess the part of Hooters that bothered me was that girls were the attraction with no women in sight as employees. Real men go for real women and do not go for slightly of age girls. There's a huge difference. Maybe there were no women at this branch of Hooters because (a) they know better than to work at Hooters and (b) there are better jobs out there for real women.

You do know the difference between girls and women, don't you?

Then there were the two Hooters girls that were preggers. That was interesting. Even though obviously pregnant they were still wearing the tight Hooters outfits.

I sat at the bar and the female bartender tried to make me feel special as she played me for a better than average tip. Two beers. Order of wings (with hot sauce). Fish and chips. Watched one of the playoff football games.

As I finished eating the bartender asked if I wanted anything else. I wanted to reply, "Is that all there is?" but just paid the bill and left completely disillusioned with what I thought Hooters was all about.

As you get older and wiser life can be like that.

Sailboat update: We're in the midst of negotiating price and equipment.

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3 comments:

flyinfox-satx said...

Bob, OK, the Preggers Hooters Girls? Gotta get a pic of that. I could not or would not believe it if it hadn't come from you. I guess they really need the money.

Yep, but that is really all Hooters is. Sorry that you thought there maybe more but there really isn't.

And yeah, I do know the difference between little girls and Women....

Its some of the he/she's that are out there that scare me.

evalinn said...

Sounds awful! Good luck on the boat business!

Max Watson said...

Here's the pitch: In cowtown you open up a new restaurant called UDDERS, only hire large-chested women whose breasts have descended to the belly region, and screen the clientele to allow in only non-bald old guys who sign waivers promising not to ogle. You'll serve up anything that can be cooked on a bbq, pay the women a great wage, and anybody who gets pregnant gets moved to Bob's other restaurant--HUMPS.

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