What were you expecting?
Camille: Chest cones.
T: She means boobs.
Were you disappointed?
C: No, but so many people who find this post via a search engine will be. There were breasts there. There usually are in every restaurant, but I was expecting a place dedicated to the consumption of hot babes and sports, and while that exists at Hooters, it’s so much more.
T: Yeah, it’s also about fried chicken wings.
C: Well the Yelp reviews indicate that many women feel comfortable here. It’s not just a man cave.
T: We felt pretty comfortable.
C: Yeah, and I was wearing clogs and a brown sack dress.
T: I wore a puffy ski vest.
C: So they seated us with a pregnant waitress.
T: I’m not sure if that was because of what we were wearing?
C: She introduced herself as “Our Hooter Girl,” and that was pretty cringeworthy.
T: She was ours. All ours! So beautiful too! I wonder if her baby was “Our Hooter Baby.”
What did you order?
T: It was Wings Wednesday, and you don’t turn down a $7.00 entree, especially after we’ve been burned so badly by the other restaurants.
C: Also, it was a pretty boring menu. Nothing else looked tempting.
T: I had been nauseous that day. If I were hungrier, I definitely would have gone for the “Lots o’ Tots Appetizer.” That’s like baked potato fixins on tater tots. But everything else was just like, “I am a burger.” “I am a sandwich.” “Meep morp mawp gorp goop.”
How was it?
C: So fried.
T: It was really deep fried. On a side note, there was some confusion about my beverage. I tried to order a ginger ale–to help me digest. Our waitress, I mean Hooter Girl, said she didn’t have ginger ale, but she could give me Sprite with a splash of Pepsi. SHE REALLY THINKS IT’S THE SAME THING.
C: She’s a mixologist!
T: We both really wish we’d tried it.
C: I was going to say that we skipped it, but I shamefully just remembered that we got Key Lime pie.
T: It was good. Got some fruit into our meal.
How was the decor?
T: Very generic sports bar except with more orange. But it was game night at Hooters.
C: Yeah, this was a first for us.
T: The attractive hostesses set up a gigantic, orange Jenga game. Pairs of balding men would play Jenga, and for each round, they had to perform some sort of dare.
C: A lot of the dares were push up related, and they were playing right by our booth, so it felt like they were performing for us. I’d say that masculinity is on display just as much as femininity, in equally exaggerated, embarrassing ways. Of course Hooters has a very narrow understanding of both genders. I learned later that Hooters Girls also are known for hula hooping.
I’m fairly certain this video would have been made identically in the 1950s. Although they didn’t have free Wifi in the 50’s, and those extras are definitely surfing the web.
Would you go back?
C: Yes, but only because I like infuriating my feminist mother. Also we couldn’t take any pictures (there was a sign telling us not to), and it was too dark in the parking lot near the Hooters sign. This didn’t stop us from trying for ten minutes to take a picture of me standing near that neon owl. A group of High School students laughed at me. I think they thought I was trying to commemorate my own breasts.
T: Ugh, those kids are dummies. As if they don’t take a million selfies a week.
C: And with their hooters too!
Where are you going next?
C: Hint. We’ll be panning for gold…