Friday, May 22, 2015

Embarking on the Mythical & Insane: Going to a Hooters

For those who don't already know, I grew up in this strict religious household. My mother kept us far away from anything remotely hinting at sexuality. I remember her almost not letting us watch Just the Ten of Us when we were little b/c she felt it was not appropriate. Hearing someone in this Biography special on the Nightmare on Elm Street movies call that show "wholesome" & squeaky clean made me chuckle at this contradiction.

By the time we were teenagers & attending public school, my mom had loosened up some. Or so you thought. I still had to deal with the damn clothing battles over my shorts, skirts, tank tops and the like but she was picky about something else.

My father got a job laying cable for a company that sent him in distant places in the state. One time, he was staying at a hotel near Charlotte. This was when my parents weren't living together but my mother couldn't simply just cut ties; she still saw the man even though I felt she should have gotten a divorce eons ago.

Well, my father had this shirt from Hooters & my sister wanted it. She wanted it really badly but my mother said she couldn't have it. It wasn't one of the tank tops the servers wear or something tacky & revealing, just the simple older logo everyone in the US might be familiar with & the name of the city on the shirt (in this case, "Charlotte, NC"). She was like "Why can't I have it?" I remember asking my mother this myself. She was essentially "I am law & say no on this."

There's also the famous lore of how Hooters girls flirt with guys to get tips & all that. You've seen South Park with the Raisins restaurant & those girls, you know what I'm talking about. Or the actual term people use is "breastaurant."

Things to know about me:

1. I'm NOT the kind of woman who gets jealous of other women. Someone else's power doesn't mean I don't have power of my own. Other women with looks are my peers, my contemporaries, chicas who get it in a way other girls can't understand.

2. I applied to work at the local Hooters when I graduated college & was in NC hoping to earn some extra money before embarking on the next adventure of my life. I think I got rejected for being too smart, despite being pretty & making sure to wear a blue halter top that show my boobies quite nicely. Dress for your audience, you know?

3. One of my exes, Vampire Boy, apparently went to Hooters with some goth friends but not me. The image of him in this "breastaurant" getting hit on by women who look more cheerleader than goth chick (his type) has always amused me. It's just not something I see him doing or really getting into. God help the woman having to do that for her tips; maybe she should get an Oscar if she's forced to lay it on thick.

I've always had this curious fascination with seeing what that experience is like myself. I'm sure not going to care about some server hitting on a guy taking me. If that actually worked, I'd have gotten Psycho Boy to Hooters STAT & been eternally grateful to any woman working there who got his fixation off of me; maybe even paid her some money for her inadvertent service in saving my life. I could do that for other overly clingy guys & never had problems again.

Hooters: the place for women to take their lovesick admirers so they'll bug someone else.

Recently, the opportunity posed itself for me to go with a guy friend so I went. It was NOT the pickup scene I expected; our server hardly noticed us. I expected some flirtation on my friend but that didn't happen. He said those girls are probably in high school & told me about having taken a male friend of his to that particular Hooters before. Unfortunately I didn't buy a shirt but maybe I should ask my sister if she wants that for her birthday. I should get myself one as well. A lovely rebellious statement against my mother & "the faith" I have not belonged to in forever. Maybe it's even just a symbol of rebellion for me in general & me owning my whole model thing. Hmmmm...

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