Monday, February 12, 2007

Hooters byline on their website: "Delightfully tacky, YET UNREFINED"

I don't believe it -- James, Ricklen and I just went to HOOTERS for lunch!

This could have been an episode from "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy".

None of us had ever been to this Bastion Of Straightdom before, and James and I always been curious "what the big deal" is about this chain of advertised buxom, revealing smorgasbord of delights.

Now we KNOW. There IS no big deal -- at least at this far-flung Hooters location in West Des Moines, Iowa.

Hopefully it's more cloying in more exotic locations, for you straight guys. Here, they weren't very responsive, interested, or stimulated by the female employees in the Breadbasket of Amurrrika.

The food was definitely below-average, and the waitresses were attractive enough -- but they sure didn't look like the strippers as I had expected from the advertising.

What fun is that? These young women just looked freezing cold in their scanty short pants and low-cut blouses. Oh well, I guess a girl's gotta make a living!

Our waitress was a slim mulatto girl with frizzy, burnt reddish hair. She introduced herself as "Tyke". (As in...like little kid?)

She seductively smoothled down a post-it note with "Tyke" and a happy face on our table after our drink order, to make sure we'd remember her.

Mission accomplished!

It was two o'clock on a Monday afternoon so the place wasn't very crowded. However, there was a boisterous table behind us with two guys and a gal, busily playing a video machine which involved firing with a gun. They were whoopin' and hollerin' at top volume during most of our lunch. Woo-hoo!

Then there were the four guys at a neighboring table, subconsciously begging for makeovers. (If they only knew. Hey guy, please lose the Bill Cosby multi-colored, bulky sweater and beige chinos!)

Our waitress "Tyke" sat herself down companionably at our table (is this a Hooter-ism? Anyway it was a "first") and breathily asked what we'd like to drink. I glanced at her low-cut blouse, when she gently wagged her chest back and forth as she stared soulfully into my eyes, huskily whispering the drink menu.

Again...a girl's gotta make a living. I bet she has some interesting stories to tell about this job!

The menu did not include Vodka, or any hard alcohol. Just beer and wine. But we could "walk on the wild side" with sangria. (UH-oh! Were we detected??)

I went for a wheat beer on tap. Ricklen had a half-bottle of white whine. James had a Pepsi.

When the four guys arrived at the next table, I couldn't stop thinking about that show "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" who might/could work wonders with them. There was LOTS of material to work with: bad haircuts all around; rumpled shirts which didn't even remotely go with the pants, the Bill Cosby multi-colored sweater...it reminded me of kids at their first day of Kindergarten, dressed haphazardly without their mommy paying attention.

Sorry guys....there's nothing really wrong with your outfits....it was just sort of a shock to be jolted into this emphatically straight world.

This was wake-up call to Mainstream America, which James and I usually don't participate in. I appreciate it, actually -- it provides a perspective.

Wow -- I guess we're really weird. And that's okay.

At the end of our visit, to wrap it all up, "Tyke" sat back down at our table and asked if everything was okay. Yes, my dear, it was fine. Thanks for joining us.

What a different world. Fascinating and informative.

But not to be repeated anytime soon.

Oooohhhh...I can hardly wait to GO HOME!!!!

2 comments:

  1. crazy professor, i guess your name says it all.

    Somehow, I do not think that you wrote your response word-for-word after you read my blog. Copy and paste is so EASY! Just post to any sinner or strayer from the "flock" - and VOILA! Instant preaching!

    If you truly wish to communicate with me, I would suggest a PERSONAL response.

    Thank you.

    Meanwhile, I guess I am brought to the point of needing to moderate comments.

    ReplyDelete
  2. A hooters in Iowa, a hotbed of Breederdom. That's just scary.

    ReplyDelete